


the name of the game

by angejolras



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst™, But also, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, GOD i'm trash for mutual seemingly unrequited pining, Holidays, Mutual Pining, Mutually Unrequited, New Year's Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Sharing a Bed, or is it???, with an eventual happy ending :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-03-09 18:06:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13486890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angejolras/pseuds/angejolras
Summary: Just after Enjolras managed to reconnect with his parents, a little white lie he tells his mother over the phone backfires completely, and as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures, so he trades his dignity for a fake girlfriend for the winter holidays. Enter Éponine, his former rival and current best friend: she's dragged into the whole mess, and after much pleading, begging, and bribing on his part, she agrees to help.(ON SEMI HIATUS)





	1. 01.

**Author's Note:**

> title changed from "the season of perpetual hope" to "the name of the game" 01/09/2018, because i think the latter title suits this fic better. or at least, it will :3 (go listen to the song if you haven't!! it might explain a lot once we get deeper into the story)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've never written a fake-dating au before. this should be fun.

* * *

Enjolras was well aware that his parents loved him. They only wanted what was best for him.

The problem was they never _asked_ him what was best for him.

Lately, his parents, and his mother in particular, had been pestering him about whether or not he had a significant other—“You’re twenty-six, Gabriel! A good, stable relationship would be good for you!”—and even though his parents lived all the way in their lovely mansion in the countryside down south while he had moved to Paris the moment he completed his secondary education, they somehow managed to set him up on blind dates with their friends’ children and other people his age coming from families of good names from miles away. He had suffered through many a disastrous blind date for the sake of his parents, and numerous times, he had contemplated just lying about a significant other to avoid going through such incidents again. He had always been good at lying to his parents since they had been rather unintentionally abusive while raising him—they had reconnected and made amends not too long ago after numerous counselling sessions and proper communication—so he had figured this wouldn’t be much different from the various white lies he told growing up.

The holiday season was drawing nearer when Enjolras’ mother rang him up while he was making dinner for himself in his apartment, and he held the phone up to his ear as he stirred the spaghetti in the pot. “Hello?”

“Gabriel, darling!” Enjolras grimaced at his mother’s little pet name. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been just fine, Mother,” he replied evenly, holding the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he drained the spaghetti of the water in the sink. “Why?”

“Your father and I want to see you!” his mother told him, her enthusiasm evident in each word she uttered. “We’re going up to the log cabin in the mountains for Christmas and New Year’s, and we’d like you to come!”

Enjolras hesitated for a moment as he poured the spaghetti onto a plate and began to spoon spaghetti sauce onto it. “I’ll come,” he promised his mother, making his way to the living room and turning on Brooklyn Nine-Nine on the TV.

“Oh, wonderful!” Enjolras could hear the excitement in his mother’s voice and could feel his lips curl into the tiniest hint of a smile as he began to wind spaghetti around his fork. “How have those dates been going?”

Enjolras groaned inwardly, having been expecting his love life—though really, it was more accurately described as a lack thereof—to be brought up. After a few moments of hesitation in which he chewed and swallowed his mouthful of spaghetti, he decided that a little white lie couldn’t possibly hurt, and so he told her, “Actually, I, uh, I already have a, um, a girlfriend.”

He took advantage of the surprised silence at the other end to eat another mouthful of spaghetti, having just swallowed it when his mother asked, “Oh, who is it?”

 _Shit!_ “It’s, um—” In his moment of panic, Enjolras searched his mind for a name, any name, quite possibly the name of a friend. The only problem was that he had a total of four female friends to whom he was close—both Musichetta and Cosette were taken while Azelma had earned the title of a serial dater after her last long-term relationship with her girlfriend ended horribly and she became terrified of commitment, so that left— “Éponine! Her name is Éponine,” Enjolras lied, holding his breath and desperately hoping his mother would buy into it.

After a few more moments of silence, his mother asked, “Is that the girl you speak so often about?”

Enjolras felt his face flush red as he mumbled, “Well, I wouldn’t say _that_ often, but—”

“Wonderful! I want you to invite her along too,” his mother interjected, sounding pleased that her son had found someone.

Enjolras had been taking a sip of his water and he nearly spat out his drink, almost dropping his plate as he spluttered, “You—you want me to—you want me to bring her along?”

“No need to sound so horrified, dear!” his mother laughed at the other end. Enjolras was completely ignoring the TV by this point in favour of hearing what exactly his mother had in mind, trying not to drop his plate of food at his shock. “I’d like to meet this girl of yours, and I’m sure your father will, too. How long have you two been together?”

“Um, uh—” _Shit, shit, shit, shit,_ shit _!_ Enjolras placed his plate of spaghetti on the coffee table and got up, beginning to pace the room as he thought up of more convincing lies to feed his mother. He hadn’t expected it to backfire this badly, but now the damage was done, so he babbled, “Well, we only, uh, we only recently got—got together about a month ago, it’s still quite new, but she and I—” He swallowed, hoping his mother would buy into his lies as he went on, “We’re very in love, she’s a wonderful woman, but I—I don’t know if, um, if she’d want to come along.”

“Oh, nonsense!” Enjolras’ mother sounded over the moon as she insisted, “Do bring this girl of yours for the holidays, will you? I’d like to meet this young woman you’ve talked so much about.”

“But—” Enjolras was about to protest before his mother cut him off once again.

“No buts, Gabriel,” his mother told him firmly. “You’re going to bring her and that is final. Oh, I’m so happy that you found someone, dear! Do be at the cabin by December fifth, will you?”

“O-okay, Mother,” Enjolras managed to weakly reply, falling backwards into an armchair as his mother let out a delighted squeal before hanging up.

Enjolras opened his contacts and stared down at Éponine’s name, completely caught off-guard by how badly this had backfired. _What the hell have I gotten myself_ _into?_

* * *

“What was it that you wanted to talk about so badly?” Éponine questioned with much curiosity as she shook the rainwater off her trench coat before stepping inside Enjolras’ apartment, shrugging her coat off to hang up before gratefully taking the mug of hot chocolate from him as she went to sit down on the sofa, draping the crimson knitted wool blanket over her thighs as she tucked her legs beneath her. It was night out, the rain pattering against the windows and providing a relaxing background noise as Éponine made herself comfortable on Enjolras’ couch, saying, “You sounded pretty desperate on the phone.”

 _I_ am _desperate,_ Enjolras thought but didn’t say as he turned on the TV, going to sit down by Éponine once he had settled on one of the episodes from the first season of the Doctor Who revival series.

“’Ponine, remember when we first met?” Enjolras asked, taking his own mug of hot chocolate and taking a sip.

Éponine laughed dryly, poking at one of the marshmallows in her hot chocolate with a fork as she replied, “Yeah. God, you were so annoying. I thought you were the most infuriating person I had ever met and I had no idea how the hell Combeferre’s put up with you since you two were eight. You were such a douche sometimes. Remember when I gave you that cactus for your nineteenth birthday? I had just met you a month earlier.”

“Yeah, you said it was so I could be reminded of how much of a prick I was,” Enjolras chuckled, thinking about how he still had that cactus from seven years ago in his bedroom and trying not to let his nerves show as he attempted to work up the courage to ask her to do this one _massive_ favour for him. How the hell was he supposed to phrase it? _Hey, ’Ponine, my parents have refused to get off my back about my love life so I lied about having a girlfriend and I may have used your name and now they want to meet you and they insisted on us going to our family log cabin in the Alps for the holidays, so will you be my fake girlfriend for a month?_ Grimacing at how that sounded in his mind, he continued, “We yelled at each other so much until that time we got stuck in that elevator together.”

“Ah, yes, the campus-wide blackout,” Éponine recalled, leaning back and throwing her legs over Enjolras’ thighs as she took another sip of her hot chocolate, remembering how there had been a campus-wide blackout at the beginning of their sophomore year. “How eventful.”

“We’ve been best friends ever since, haven’t we?” Enjolras prompted, taking a spoon to spoon a couple of chocolatey marshmallows into his mouth.

“I can’t believe I’ve put up with your bullshit for six years now,” Éponine replied candidly, taking yet another sip of her hot chocolate and poking at the marshmallows with her fork, remembering how after being trapped in an elevator together for nine hours when they were nineteen, they had come out and been inseparable ever since. “Look, Gabe, that was a nice memory and all, but why the trip down memory lane?”

“Do you want to order pizza?” Enjolras asked all of a sudden, avoiding her question.

Éponine frowned at how jittery he was acting, but she can’t refuse free pizza from her best friend. “Yeah, sure, why not?”

Once he had ordered their pizzas for them—they had had many an argument with Courfeyrac about whether or not pineapple belonged on pizza, with the two of them staunchly defending it while Courfeyrac had argued against—Enjolras sat back down beside Éponine, his heart racing in his chest as he desperately searched for the proper words while she stared at him curiously, wondering what on earth he could possibly have to say.

“’Ponine, I have a huge favour to ask you,” he started, managing not to stutter his way through.

Éponine raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips as she said, “Shoot.”

Taking a deep breath, Enjolras went on, “So you know how I recently reconciled with my parents, right?”

“Don’t see what that has to do with me, but yeah,” Éponine replied, scooting a bit closer. “Why?”

“Well, for some reason, my parents, my mother in particular, seem to have gotten it into their heads that I need a significant other to complete my life,” Enjolras muttered, grimacing at all those horrid blind dates that had gone horribly, horribly wrong every time. “They kept pestering me about my love life and had been setting me up on blind dates with their friends’ children and they were… not very fun, to say the least. My parents want me to come up to our family’s log cabin in the Alps for the holidays—”

“Hold up, your family has a fucking _log cabin_ in the _Alps_?” Éponine interrupted, her dark eyes growing wide. When Enjolras nodded sheepishly, Éponine let out an odd noise of disbelief as she leaned back and said, “Jesus, I knew your family was loaded, but I didn’t know you were _that_ loaded.”

“Back to my story,” Enjolras replied, smiling rather tightly at his best friend as he continued, “Well, my mother called me yesterday and she asked me to come spend the holidays with her and my father at our log cabin, and my mother asked me about my love life as she always does.”

“I still don’t see what this has to do with me,” Éponine interjected, raising her eyebrows even higher.

Enjolras inhaled, mentally preparing herself to make such a huge request before he blurted out all in one breath, “I may have lied and told her that I already have a girlfriend to get her off my back about my love life and I may have used your name and now my mother wants to meet you and has invited the both of us up to the family log cabin for the holidays so what I’m saying is will you please be my fake girlfriend for a month?”

It was all Éponine could do to keep her jaw from dropping.

“Could you—could you run all that by me again?” she asked, having nearly choked on her marshmallows and just having managed to force it down as she stared at Enjolras in disbelief.

Enjolras was already beginning to have second thoughts as he repeated slowly, “My mother wouldn’t get off my back about my love life when she called me yesterday, so I lied about having a girlfriend to get her to stop talking and I used your name because I really don’t know any other girls besides you, your sister, Cosette, and Musichetta, and besides, we’re best friends already, but then it backfired completely because now my mother wants you to come up to the mountains with us for the holidays and she insists on meeting you.” After pausing to catch his breath, he requested, “Will you please pretend to be my girlfriend for a month?”

Éponine’s eyes widened even more at such a request, and Enjolras began to ramble, getting down on his knees before her and taking her hands into his as he desperately pleaded, “Please, ’Ponine, just one month, I promise you I’ll make it up to you in the end, I _just_ managed to maintain a decent relationship with my parents for the first time in ten years, ’Ponine, I know how big of a request this is but I’m desperate and I don’t want to disappoint my parents and—”

“Gabriel, slow down!” Éponine interrupted, raising her hand to silence him. Enjolras immediately shut his mouth, looking at her expectantly and awaiting her response. She sighed loudly and rubbed her temple, saying, “I need some time to process this.”

“Not to be pushy, ’Ponine, but you’ll have to make up your mind soon,” Enjolras told her, beginning to regret everything as he went on, “My parents want us to be there by the fifth of December.”

Éponine stopped, a look of protest crossing her face as she pointed out indignantly, “But that’s three fucking days from now!”

“’Ponine.” Enjolras took her hands in his and squeezed them as she bit her lip, wondering if her best friend had lost his fucking mind. “Please, Éponine. I’ll make it up to you as much as possible when it’s all over.”

Éponine fell silent for several gruelling moments before she enquired, “What’s in it for me?”

“A month spent in a really nice log cabin up in the Alps,” Enjolras offered, trying not to cringe at how much he sounded like his mother. “Excellent food, a white Christmas, excursions to the little town near the log cabin, New Year’s fireworks, access to my uncle’s ski resort, and my infinite gratitude.” After some time, he added, “You also have full control over everything we do together for the next four months.”

“Everything?” When Enjolras vigorously nodded yes, Éponine’s lips curved into a mischievous grin as she asked, “So if I asked you to help me rob a bank within the next four months, you’d do it?”

“If that’s what it’ll take to get you to agree, then yes,” Enjolras replied through clenched teeth, sincerely hoping she wouldn’t follow through with such a thing as robbing a fucking bank.

He held his breath in anticipation of Éponine’s answer as she kept silent, carefully considering her answer as she played with a lock of her hair. At last, she said, “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“You will?” Enjolras sounded impossibly relieved at her agreement, looking at her like she was the moon, his blue eyes shining as a grin broke out on his face. Éponine nodded, smiling back at him and letting out a little squeal of surprise when he threw his arms around her and squeezed her tight, relieved beyond belief that she had agreed to this crazy arrangement. She hugged him back, finding that she liked the feeling of being in his arms as she buried her face in his shoulder and breathed in the scent of his cologne. When he pulled away, she found herself gazing into his eyes with a smile on her face, holding his gaze until he turned pink and cleared his throat, looking away.

“It’ll be a long drive,” Enjolras told her, taking her hand in his and squeezing it, feeling warmth spread through his fingers as he held her hand in his. “Eight hours or so. Start packing up when you get home, will you? We leave three days from now, after all.”

“Sure thing, _sweetheart_ ,” Éponine replied, sarcasm dripping from her tone as she turned her attention back to Doctor Who.


	2. 02.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for the kind comments and for those on tumblr who are following the story there!! here's chapter two!!!
> 
> i kind of based enjolras' mother's appearance off of meryl streep's, and i'm still trying to work out who i'll reference as enjolras' father

* * *

Clouds were hanging low above the city and coating the entire town in a light drizzle that looked as if it was about to escalate into a full-blown storm any moment now as Éponine and Enjolras stood on the pavement in front of Enjolras’ apartment building early in the morning, Enjolras loading their luggage into the trunk of his car. Dawn was slowly approaching, although the sun was concealed by the stormy grey clouds, and the few people passing by paid no mind to the pair as they packed up for their eight-hour drive up into the French Alps, and Enjolras was beginning to have second thoughts about this insane arrangement of his, wondering how the fuck they were supposed to pull this off.

“What did you tell your mom about me, exactly?” Éponine questioned as she stood on the pavement in her thick winter coat, rubbing her arms in an attempt for more warmth.

“Well, we’ve been best friends for some time,” Enjolras replied matter-of-factly, looking up from the trunk. “I’ve talked about you before I lied and said we were together, you know. Just be yourself and I’m sure my parents will love you.”

“They’re sure to ask us about our ‘relationship’,” Éponine pointed out, exaggerating air quotes and rolling her eyes at the word “relationship”. “What do you think they’ll ask us about?”

“They’ll probably ask us about how long we’ve known each other and how we got together,” Enjolras responded, closing the trunk and walking over to stand by her as he continued, “We’ll just tell the truth and talk about how we met in college and we hated each other at first.”

“Until the elevator incident,” Éponine added, turning her head and looking up to grin up at him at the memory, saying teasingly, “That was when you fell madly in love with me but didn’t work up the courage to ask me out until now. We’re going with that story, no take backs. How long did you tell your mom we’ve been dating, by the way?”

“A month,” Enjolras replied, putting his arm around her and pulling her close to his side. Éponine bit her lip to suppress a smile; he had developed a habit of doing that over the past year, but it still never failed to make her feel warm inside. “Don’t worry, ’Ponine, it’ll be fine.”

“It better be,” she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him. “I’m sacrificing a trip to Disney World with Courf, R, and my brother to be your fake girlfriend for a month. I better get my fucking money’s worth.”

“You will,” Enjolras promised, pulling her closer. “Just pretend to be head over heels in love with me and we’ll be fine.” Another thought then struck him for the first time and he felt his face grow hot as he added rather tentatively, “Also, we’ll probably be expected to do… typical couple things, so—”

“Like what?” Éponine’s tone was unexpectedly sharp as she furrowed her brow, looking up at him with an odd look on her face at his choice of words.

“Maybe we should just kiss right now and get it over with so it wouldn’t be awkward if we ever need to kiss in front of anybody,” Enjolras blurted out all in one breath, feeling his cheeks burn at his own words and dropping the arm that had been around Éponine. She raised an eyebrow as he took a moment to compose himself, muttering mostly to himself, “This may not have been the best idea.”

“Hey.” Éponine took his hand in hers and squeezed it in her attempt to be reassuring, looking up, her brown eyes finding his blue. She offered an encouraging smile, telling him, “If this’ll help get your parents to stop pestering you about your love life, then I’ll do it. So, um, you want me to kiss you?” She couldn’t help but laugh at how absurd that sounded, seeing how Enjolras turned even redder than he already was.

“I—I mean, we’ll—we’ll probably be expected to, my parents—they’d get suspicious if we didn’t,” he stammered out, tongue-tied all of a sudden. Pausing to take a deep breath and calm himself, he went on, “So, uh—may I kiss you?”

Éponine simply laughed at how awkward Enjolras was being and took his face into her small hands, standing on tiptoe to press her lips to his. It took him some time to catch up, but when he finally did, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, bending down slightly and kissing her back, sighing softly against her lips as he felt her arms snake around his neck, blood rushing in his ears and his heart racing a mile a minute. He noticed how Éponine seemed to put all of her heart and soul into the kiss, kissing him as if her life depended on it—fiery, passionate, and full of spirit. By the time she pulled away, Enjolras was sure she could hear his heart pounding in his chest as she smiled up at him, biting her lip and stifling a laugh at how red his face was.

Éponine could’ve sworn she had felt an odd fluttering in her chest at the feeling of his lips on hers but she had brushed it off, convincing herself that it was her mind playing tricks on her. Enjolras was her best friend; she should have felt nothing. Smirking up at him now, she said, “Well, we’ve gotten that over with, so it’s not going to be so awkward now, is it?”

Enjolras merely laughed—Éponine noticed how his laugh seemed a little bit off, but she didn’t question it—and he took her hands in his and squeezed them tight. “’Ponine, have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

“I think you may have mentioned it once about two years ago on my birthday,” Éponine replied cheekily as the two of them finally got into the car and out of the rain, buckling themselves in before Éponine plugged her phone in and put her road trip playlist on shuffle. Enjolras pretended to smack her arm as he turned on the engine, beginning to drive as they continued to converse between themselves.

“So, Gabriel, do you have any siblings I should know about?” Éponine questioned, only now beginning to wonder why that particular topic had never come up in their six years of friendship, just realising that they never really discussed their pasts with each other. _Well, no time like right now to learn,_ she thought to herself, leaning back in her seat and placing her feet on the dash.

Enjolras shook his head. “Only child,” he replied, stopping at the red light. “Combeferre was my only friend for a long time.” After a while, he remarked rather offhandedly, “My mother seems to really want grandchildren.”

“Maybe that’s why she’s so desperate to pair you off with someone,” Éponine suggested, a slightly teasing edge to her voice.

She could hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “Perhaps.”

The rest of the car ride was rather quiet with only the sound of the music Éponine had turned on preventing complete silence from falling between them, and as they drove further into the countryside, Éponine found herself being entranced by the sprawling fields and the grassy hills sprinkled with early snow. Her face was practically pressed against the window as she took picture after picture of the countryside using the camera Cosette had gotten her for her twenty-fifth birthday earlier that year. What she didn’t know was that Enjolras kept stealing brief glances at her, an affectionate smile on his face at how delighted his best friend seemed to be from the sights of the countryside. He frowned to himself when he felt his heart rate pick up speed when she let out a joyful little laugh, wondering why he was feeling such things when his main focus should be managing to not expose his lie to his parents.

Two hours after they stopped at a McDonald’s to grab lunch, they finally arrived at Enjolras’ family’s log cabin, which was, suffice to say, much more extravagant than Éponine had ever expected it to be. It was a few miles away from the nearby town, situated high in the hills with nothing but sprawling snow-covered fields around for miles, a small parking lot located at the foot of the hill for Enjolras’ family to park their cars. The log cabin itself was a sight to behold—glass windows that took up entire walls, a wraparound balcony, and high ceilings. She hadn’t even gone inside the cabin yet and she was already in love.

As the two of them made their way up the hill in the soft snow with their luggage, Enjolras drilled Éponine one final time on what the two of them were supposed to do once they met up with his parents. “Remember, all you need to do is pretend to be hopelessly in love with me and we’re good,” he reminded her, anxious to pull this off.

“I _know_ , Gabriel!” Éponine replied, somewhat exasperated. “I know what I’m doing. Don’t worry.”

Once the two of them were on the doorstep of the log cabin, Enjolras took a deep breath as Éponine’s hand slipped into his. She looked up at him, biting her lip. “You ready?”

He nodded, reaching out with his free hand to press the doorbell. Within moments, the door flung open to reveal a blonde woman who strongly resembled Enjolras.

“Gabriel, darling!” Enjolras let go of Éponine’s hand when his mother threw her arms around him and pressed a kiss to either of his cheeks, pulling back and reaching up to cup her son’s cheek as she looked him up and down, seeming pleased by what she saw. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, dear. Your father should be down in just a few moments.”

A middle-aged man with greying blond hair about as tall as Enjolras made his way to the door, where he pulled his son in for a quick hug before pulling away, noticing the young woman standing beside his son for the first time. Enjolras noticed how his mother seemed to be looking at Éponine with much interest—probably more interest than necessary—and he put an arm around his best friend, pulling her close to his side.

“Mother, Father, this is Éponine,” Enjolras introduced her, stealing a sideways glance at the brunette and giving her an affectionate smile when she smiled adoringly up at him, playing up the part of the hopelessly smitten girlfriend, before smiling at his parents in greeting. Enjolras turned pink, adding rather sheepishly, “My girlfriend.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she greeted politely, reaching out with her hand to shake his parents’ hands and turning a faint shade of pink when Enjolras buried his face in her hair, kissing the top of her head and missing the pleased smile on his mother’s face.

“The pleasure is all mine, my dear,” Enjolras’ mother replied graciously, shaking Éponine’s hand. “Gabriel here has told us so much about you.”

“He holds you in high regard,” Enjolras’ father added, smiling at how his son blushed scarlet.

“He does?” Éponine looked up to stare at Enjolras, a look of surprise flitting across her face, and he simply bit his lip and mouthed, _Later._

“Yes, he speaks very highly of you!” Enjolras’ mother confirmed, shooting her son a delighted smile. “Come on in and make yourselves at home—you don’t want to be catching a cold in this weather.”

Once Éponine and Enjolras had entered the log cabin, she looked around at her grand surroundings, awed by the high ceilings and glass windows and blazing fire in the massive fireplace. She noticed the enormous Christmas tree in the corner that went up all the way to the ceiling before she saw all the photographs and little trinkets on the mantel. A sharply dressed man hustled over to Éponine and Enjolras, taking their coats and luggage from them.

“It’s nice to see you again, Monsieur,” the man greeted Enjolras, a smile on his face. Enjolras nodded at the man in greeting.

“You two must be exhausted from the drive,” Enjolras’ mother said, making her way over to the pair. “Why don’t you let Augustin show you to your room so you two can get some rest before dinner?”

“Our—our room?” Enjolras asked, caught off-guard by his mother’s choice of words. A slip of the tongue, perhaps?

“My dear, I’m not _that_ behind the times,” his mother told him serenely, smiling at him and Éponine as she said, “I’m not as old as you seem to think I am, darling, I’m not going to believe that you two haven’t shared a bed at least once—”

“ _Mother!_ ” Enjolras exclaimed, his face taking on a brilliant shade of scarlet at his mother’s words. Éponine felt her cheeks burning as well, rather shocked by how blunt Enjolras’ mother was.

Enjolras’ mother merely smiled and went on calmly, “It’s the room you always stayed in when you were younger, dear. I had the housekeeper clean it out so it would be ready for you and Éponine by the time you two arrived.”

Enjolras was at a loss for words, nothing but a stream of incomprehensible, spluttering noises coming out of his mouth, as Éponine weakly said, “Th-thank you, Madame.”

“Oh, please, none of that,” Enjolras’ mother scoffed, calling Augustin over with a simple hand gesture. “Call me Agathe.”

“O-okay, Agathe,” Éponine corrected herself, testing out how the name sounded on the tip of her tongue. It still felt odd, but she supposed that was how it was supposed to feel when meeting your best friend’s parents for the first time, and under this whole fake girlfriend charade too.

“Augustin, will you please show my son and Éponine to their room?” Agathe requested to the man Éponine had deduced was the butler, the man who had taken their coats and luggage from them earlier. Augustin nodded dutifully, taking Éponine and Enjolras’ luggage and beginning to lead them up the stairs, and the two of them had no choice but to follow him.

Once the butler had shut the door behind them, Éponine kicked her shoes off before she took the time to really take in her surroundings.

The bedroom was probably bigger than her entire apartment, with a massive, perfectly made four-poster bed with silk crimson sheets, enormous fluffy pillows, and a tall wooden headboard pushed up against the middle of the left wall, and an armchair stood in the corner of the room, right beside the sliding glass doors that led out to the balcony. Éponine rushed up to a door beside the nightstand on the right hand side of the bed, opening it to find an organised little walk-in closet, and she then made her way to the door on the left side of the bed, opening it and gaping at the bathroom inside—a huge bathtub was built into a corner while a double shower was built into the other. She went back out into the bedroom and went up to the fire blazing merrily in the fireplace across from the bed, sitting on the plush sofa standing before the fireplace and looking around in awe at the enormous room. A television was mounted on the wall above the fireplace and a skylight was situated just above the bed, and Éponine scrambled over the backrest of the sofa to run to the bed, throwing herself onto the silk sheets and laughing rather hysterically at how incredibly soft they felt beneath her.

“I can’t believe you used to live like this,” she commented as Enjolras came up to her and sat at the edge of the bed, kicking off his shoes. “Why did you give it up?”

Enjolras shrugged, thinking about it for the first time in years. “I guess it just became too much,” he replied, still rather red in the face from his mother’s implicative words earlier. “I thought it was unfair that I lived like this while there are people out there starving in the streets. I just—I felt like living a simpler life, which is why my parents and I had that big fight that led to me moving to Paris right after I graduated secondary school. We only recently sorted out our differences, and we’re still trying to reconnect completely, hence this retreat,” he told her, leaning back on his hands as sunlight streamed in through the skylight. “We used to spend summers here too,” he murmured, gazing up at the blue skies through the skylight. “That was when we weren’t at the family beach house.”

Éponine, still lying on her back on the bed, stared up at him with a look of slight wonder in her eyes, wondering why he had never told her about this before. They were best friends, but she barely knew anything about his personal relationship with his family—the only reason he knew of hers was because Azelma and Gavroche had been part of their gang of misfits ever since Éponine first introduced them to Les Amis back in their sophomore year of college. She was rather exhausted from the drive, and before she could stop herself, she let out an enormous yawn, reaching up with her hand to cover her mouth. “You know, I think we should do what your mom told us to do and get some rest,” she told him, curling up on her side and frowning when Enjolras got up.

“I’ll go sleep on the sofa,” he told her, turning red all over again.

Éponine sat up, giving him a look. “Your parents think we’re dating,” she reminded him. “What if one of them comes in to wake us up later and find me sleeping alone on the bed while you’re on the sofa? They’re bound to get suspicious. Come over here, you idiot. We can build a pillow wall between us if you want.”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Enjolras replied, feeling his cheeks grow warm. Éponine made a grabbing motion with her hand as he rather hesitantly made his way back to her, climbing onto the empty space beside her once he had taken his contacts out and stowed them safely away and crawling underneath the covers as she did the same.

Enjolras felt his heart rate speed up when he felt Éponine’s small hand slip into his, and he almost immediately laced his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand, facing her from his side of the bed. “’Ponine?” he murmured, rubbing circles into her palm with his thumb.

“Yeah?” she mumbled in response, already sounding as if she was drifting off.

“Thank you so much,” he whispered, unable to properly put his thoughts into words. “Honestly, I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to this.”

Éponine gave him a drowsy smile before her eyelids slowly fluttered shut as she murmured almost inaudibly, “You’re my best friend, Gabe. I don’t think I’d do this for anybody else but you.”

Enjolras didn’t know what she meant by that, but he assumed it was a good thing, and for some inexplicable reason, he felt his heart flutter in his chest at her words as he drifted off to sleep, his hand tightly clasping Éponine’s.


	3. 03.

Éponine had never been a deep sleeper. The slightest noise almost always woke her up, the result of years and years of living with two abusive assholes and known criminals who constantly kept her on her toes that she knew as her parents and having to brace herself for whatever was coming next. She startled awake when she heard three sharp knocks at the door, opening her eyes and calling out groggily, “Come in!”

Augustin poked his head in, telling her, “Dinner will be served in an hour, Mademoiselle.”

“Thank you,” she called out rather weakly as Augustin shut the door. Just then, she realised that she was in a still sleeping Enjolras’ arms, his face buried in her shoulder from behind her, and she felt that same odd fluttering in her chest like she had when she kissed him upon realising that she had been sleeping in his arms for some time now, and surprisingly enough, she found that she didn’t hate it. On the contrary, she found it comforting.

 _Gabriel Enjolras, a cuddler? I never would have thought,_ she thought to herself, her lips curving into the tiniest of smiles as she snuggled closer to him, feeling his muscular arms around her and almost forgetting that this would all be over in a month.

Almost.

After failing to fall back asleep, Éponine managed to wedge herself out of Enjolras’ arms without waking him, silently slipping off the edge of the bed and taking advantage of the time to explore the room. She went out to stand in front of the glass doors leading out the balcony, watching the glow the setting sun cast over the snowy hills and illuminating the bedroom in a soft orange light before she went over to the fireplace, where the fire was beginning to die down, and she looked at the various photographs and trinkets on the mantel. She absently ran her fingers over the intricately carved photo frames as she gazed at the photographs of Enjolras and his parents from the days of his childhood and youth, smiling at how young and happy he looked in the pictures from his primary school days and how Combeferre showed up in a few photographs here and there. Enjolras looked so young, so carefree—she tried to keep herself from audibly cooing over how cute he looked as a chubby little baby with curly golden hair and big blue eyes. There were also various little trinkets scattered among the photographs, such as a vintage gold music box carousel and a little Clara and the Nutcracker music box, and Éponine picked up the Nutcracker music box to wind it up, humming along to “Waltz of the Flowers” and not noticing how Enjolras stirred behind her, sitting up in bed and gazing at her once he had put in his contacts, heedless of the fond smile on his face as he watched Éponine looking at the items on the mantel.

“Enjoying yourself?” Éponine turned around at the sound of Enjolras’ voice and blushed pink when she saw him sitting up on the bed, leaning back on his hands and smiling affectionately at her. She rolled her eyes in an attempt to draw attention away from her blushing cheeks and went back over to the bed, climbing on to perch on his legs.

“Augustin just stopped by,” she told him quietly. “He said dinner will be ready in an hour.”

“Do you want to go over any answers we might give my parents when they ask us about our ‘relationship’?” Enjolras asked, making playful air quotes and evoking a laugh from Éponine.

“Well, your mom already knows that we’ve apparently been together for a month, right?” she prompted, crawling over to sit by him and tucking her legs under the covers. “Let’s say you fell desperately in love with me after we got trapped in that elevator together.”

Enjolras made a face. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, you do,” Éponine replied, feigning sharpness in her tone before she ruined it by laughing out loud upon seeing the startled look on Enjolras’ face. “Of course, you didn’t work up the courage to ask me out on a date until my birthday back in March and you only asked for us to be exclusive a month ago,” she added, smiling to herself in satisfaction. “Now that we’ve got the story of how we apparently got together settled, what else do you think your parents will ask us?”

“I don’t think they’ll ask anything beyond that, honestly,” Enjolras admitted, leaning back against the headboard. “They might ask if we live together, but since we’ve only been ‘together’ for a month, we’ll say no.”

Éponine followed his lead and leaned back against the headboard, snuggling closer to him and laying her head on his shoulder, missing how his cheeks burned red. The room was growing darker by the moment as the sun disappeared behind the hills, and after some time, he murmured, “Do you want me to turn on a light?”

Éponine hummed softly and turned her head, burying her face in Enjolras’ shoulder and mumbling, “No, not yet.”

They merely contented themselves to sit there like that for the next several minutes, Éponine’s face buried in Enjolras’ shoulder, and he was just about to speak up before the two of them heard a knock at the door. She didn’t bother looking up as Enjolras called out, “Come in!”

The door opened to reveal Augustin, still dressed in that perfectly pressed uniform. “Yes, Augustin, what is it?” Enjolras enquired as Éponine let out a low groan that was muffled by his shoulder, seemingly still exhausted from the drive.

“Your mother wants you to come down to the living room before dinner,” Augustin replied. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”

When Augustin didn’t speak any further, Enjolras cleared his throat and asked, “Is that all?”

“Yes, it is, Monsieur,” Augustin replied automatically. Éponine, her face still buried in Enjolras’ shoulder, was beginning to feel rather creeped out by how robot-like Augustin’s responses sounded.

Enjolras nodded at the butler, telling him, “You can go now, Augustin.”

“Thank you, Monsieur.” Once Augustin had bid the two of them goodbye, he shut the door behind him, and Enjolras gently nudged Éponine, who let out a low, drawn-out groan.

“Do we have to?” she whined, picking her head up and pouting at him.

“’Ponine, it’s my mother,” Enjolras responded patiently as he reached to cup her cheek in his large hand, oblivious to how she turned faintly pink. “You _do_ want to get to know her, right?”

“Well, you _are_ my best friend, so fine,” Éponine replied, scooting over and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, sliding off with ease and nearly slipping on her fuzzy socks on the wood floor. Enjolras quickly did the same, instinctively taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze. Éponine looked up at him and grinned, scrunching up her face as she reminded him, “Remember, just act like we’re madly in love with each other and everything’ll be great.”

“I know, ’Ponine,” Enjolras replied, giving her hand a squeeze and feeling his heart beating a bit faster at how their fingers were intertwined.

Éponine grinned. “Let’s do this shit.”

The two of them made their way down the staircase hand in hand, gazing at each other adoringly and exchanging tender little smiles, Éponine going so far as to giggle quite convincingly at something Enjolras said in an attempt to really sell it. Enjolras was rather taken aback by how good of an actress she was, and he was beginning to seriously think this fake relationship would actually be convincing enough for his parents if she kept going on like this. Now all he needed to do was act as if he was hopelessly in love with her—which was proving to be a million times easier than he initially thought it would be, really—and his parents would be none the wiser.

“Oh, there you two are,” Agathe acknowledged cheerfully once Enjolras and Éponine had made it down to the enormous living room, hand in hand and gazing into each other’s eyes. Enjolras’ father was sitting beside Agathe, having been engrossed in a book before he looked up upon hearing his son and his companion approach. “Come sit down!”

“What book is that, Monsieur?” Éponine questioned affably as she and Enjolras sat down on the sofa across from the one his parents were occupying.

“Just some light reading,” Enjolras’ father replied, smiling at her and placing the book down on the coffee table. Éponine squinted, trying to read the words on the spine and deducing that it was one of Tolstoy’s works. “And please, call me Sébastien.”

Éponine gave him a close-lipped smile and laid her head on Enjolras’ shoulder, her fingers still tightly intertwined with his. Agathe leaned forward with her chin on her hand, her elbow on her knee as she sized up her son and his girlfriend with a smile that vaguely hinted towards interest on her face. “So tell me, Gabriel, how did you two meet?” she asked mildly, looking them up and down.

“We met back in our first year of university, actually,” Enjolras replied, pressing a kiss to the top of Éponine’s head and failing to note how she turned pink. The two of them had expected this question; after the shortest of discussions, they decided to go with the truth, which was that they met back when they were eighteen and just starting college. He had been just a few weeks short of his nineteenth birthday back then.

“To be honest, we hated each other at first,” Éponine added with a laugh, remembering the days of the prank war Grantaire had helped contribute to and the constant yelling and arguing. Agathe’s eyes widened slightly, and she leaned further forward, a curious look in her eyes; Sébastien was beginning to show vague hints of interest as well, fixing his son with a questioning look.

“What caused the change of mind?” Sébastien asked, growing more and more intrigued by the moment.

The two of them blushed, Éponine playing the part of the bashful, besotted girlfriend to perfection as she explained, “Well, there was a campus-wide blackout at the beginning of our second year, and the two of us happened to be in an elevator together in our dorm building. We got stuck in there for hours and I guess we just… bonded. We ended up sorting out our differences and we’ve been inseparable ever since they rescued us from that elevator.” Éponine raised her head up just as Enjolras turned to look at her and she pressed a quick kiss to his lips, smiling at how he blushed red. This was quickly proving to be easier than the both of them had expected, and Éponine had to keep reminding herself that this was fake, that this was all fake and would be over within the month.

“But you told me that you’ve only been together for a month,” Agathe pointed out to Enjolras, who turned almost as red as his shirt.

“Well, yes, but we’ve been friends for a lot longer, Mother,” he replied, managing to stay calm and collected despite his fear of being found out. “I guess I started falling for her after the elevator incident.”

“It’s been that long?” Sébastien asked, seeming genuinely interested in his son’s personal life.

“Yeah, he only asked me out on a date earlier this year on my twenty-fifth birthday,” Éponine giggled, pressing a kiss to Enjolras’ cheek. “It was adorable, Agathe, he was blushing so hard and stuttering and he was all sweaty and—”

“Okay, I think that’s enough, ’Ponine,” Enjolras interrupted, blushing fiercely at her words despite the fact that no such thing had ever happened. Éponine turned her head and grinned at him, reaching up to cup his jaw with her hand and leaning in to kiss him, and once again, he felt that same strange fluttery feeling in his chest as he closed his eyes and gently kissed her back, unaware of how his mother had the most ecstatic look on her face as she and his father exchanged a look. After a few beautiful moments, Éponine pulled away, her cheeks flushed pink as she gazed into his eyes for a split second too long before biting her lip and looking down at her lap, smiling to herself, oblivious to how Enjolras had the goofiest little grin on his face. She laid her head on his shoulder once more, their fingers still tightly intertwined.

“So, um, I didn’t ask her to go steady until a month ago,” Enjolras told his parents, leaning his head against hers as he flexed the hand she was holding.

“Well, I’m glad that you found someone, dear,” Agathe said sweetly, turning her attention back to Éponine and questioning, “What do you do, Éponine, dear? Career-wise, I mean?”

“I’m a child welfare social worker,” Éponine responded with ease, her cheeks growing warm at how Enjolras was rubbing circles into her palm with his thumb. “I just started working as one recently.”

“And what about your parents?” Sébastien asked, only to be met by a look from Agathe.

“Father,” Enjolras said warningly.

“No, no, it’s all right, Gabriel,” Éponine reassured him, squeezing his hand and turning her head to gaze into his eyes, thinking she might have seen the hint of a blush there on his cheeks. She turned back to Agathe and Sébastien, telling them, “My parents and a good part of their gang landed themselves in jail a few months before I got into college. My mother died about a year ago in jail and my dad’s still in there.”

Agathe’s blue eyes widened, her lips forming an ‘O’. “Oh, you poor dear,” she murmured, a sympathetic look on her face. Sébastien seemed rather surprised as well, having the same look of sympathy on his face as his wife did.

Éponine smiled ruefully. “It’s okay,” she reassured them, not particularly wanting their pity. Her parents had been assholes; she had been more than happy to be rid of them, even if that did mean she had had to fight to keep her siblings out of the foster system. In the end, Cosette’s father ended up getting custody of them, and Éponine supposed it had been for the best. “I still have my siblings, Azelma and Gavroche, and I have the rest of our friend group and now Gabriel too,” she added, turning her head to gaze at Enjolras with a look of complete devotion in her big brown eyes. It was almost unsettling how good of an actress she was. Enjolras turned his head to smile softly at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead and making her blush before she turned her head back to look at Enjolras’ parents. “My siblings and I found a new family in our friends,” she told them happily. “Gav looks up to Gabriel here like an older brother.”

Enjolras furrowed his brow, rather shocked by that revelation. “He does?” he whispered to her, turning to look at her as his cheeks flushed red. She nodded, leaning in for a kiss and sighing almost inaudibly against his lips as he instinctively kissed her back, unable to get over how her lips felt like against his, his stomach doing somersaults. The two of them were oblivious to how Agathe and Sébastien exchanged pleased smiles, finding Éponine earnest and charming and perfect daughter-in-law material.

After Éponine pulled away, her face only inches from Enjolras’, she blushed faintly at how he had the most endearing little smile on his face as he reached up to cradle her face in his large hands, pulling her back into another chaste kiss. After some time, Agathe cleared her throat, having just received news from Augustin that dinner was ready. The pair broke apart, blushing fiercely and looking down into their laps as Agathe told them, “Dinner’s ready!”

At the dinner table, Éponine spooned some of the most delicious creamy onion soup she had ever tasted while sitting beside Enjolras, their hands clasped underneath the table as Agathe asked, “So, Éponine, what do you want to do tomorrow? I mean, considering that you’re not as tired as you are anymore by tomorrow morning.”

“What is there to do?” Éponine asked, having just swallowed another warm spoonful of creamy crouton-filled goodness.

“Well, we could always take you around town to get to know the place since you’re going to be here for the next month,” Sébastien suggested as he ate his own meal, which consisted of garlic bread and pasta. “We could also go to my brother’s ski resort or go hiking, or whatever it is you want to do, really.”

Éponine considered it for a moment, still finding it rather astounding that Enjolras’ uncle owned a ski resort. “I think I want to go explore the town,” she decided at last, placing her spoon down in her empty bowl.

“Well, that’s settled, then!” Agathe said brightly, winding some spaghetti around her fork. “We’ll be going into town. Do be ready by nine o’clock, okay?”

“Yes, Mother,” Enjolras replied obediently, turning his head to gaze at Éponine, who was laughing at a joke his father had made. He smiled fondly at how well she seemed to be getting along with his parents, catching himself thinking of what future Christmases would be like, had this all been real. He forced himself to forget about that thought, scolding himself for thinking such things when he himself had made it clear that this would all end after a month. They would go back to simply being best friends, nothing else.

Why was the thought of that beginning to sadden him?

Once dinner was over, Éponine excused herself earlier than Enjolras did and scampered up to their bedroom, wanting nothing more than to take a long, relaxing shower and fall asleep in Enjolras’ arms in that incredibly comfortable bed of his. Enjolras was just about to follow her upstairs before his mother grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back towards her.

“I left some condoms in the drawer, dear,” Agathe informed him candidly without a hint of chagrin. Enjolras turned beet red.

“ _Mother!_ ” he exclaimed once more, repeating his words from earlier that day as he blushed scarlet to the roots of his hair at his mother’s frankness.

“Just in case you didn’t bring any,” Agathe went on, pretending not to hear what her son said. “Now go on, go join that lovely girl of yours. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, my dear.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek before lightly shoving him in the direction of the stairs, gesturing for him to go up and join Éponine.

Enjolras gave his mother one last incredulous look before he ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time and running until he reached his and Éponine’s bedroom, hearing the distinct sound of running water from inside the bathroom. He sat on the bed and gazed at the blazing fire in the fireplace, deducing that the housekeeper must have lit a new fire while they were down at dinner, and he patiently waited for Éponine to come out as he pulled out one of the drawers of one of the nightstands, flushing red when he found that his mother really hadn’t been joking when she told him she had left condoms in the drawer. He picked up the remote control next to the alarm clock on the nightstand and turned on the TV, beginning to absently look through the movies and TV shows they had on Netflix just as Éponine came out of the bathroom, clad in fuzzy unicorn pyjama bottoms, a hoodie that was much too big for her and reached her knees and looked suspiciously like one of Enjolras’, and a towel wrapped around her head.

“What’s up?” she greeted lightly as she climbed onto the tall bed, going to sit next to him as he went through the movies and TV shows absent-mindedly.

“You were great,” he found himself telling her, turning his head to impulsively kiss her forehead and making her blush pink in surprise. Once he realised what he had done, he turned scarlet, managing to continue without stumbling on his words in embarrassment, “I mean, you were really convincing down there. My parents love you, I can just tell.”

Éponine bit her lip and smiled, pulling him into a hug right there on the bed. His breath hitched upon inhaling the scent of her vanilla-scented shampoo, burying his face in her slightly damp neck as she hugged him. Once the two of them had broken apart, Éponine smiled warmly at him and said with a definite hint of teasing in her voice, “Anytime, babe.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes and slid off the bed, handing off the remote to her as he went off to search his closet for any old pyjamas that might still fit him. Once he had come out with a pair of silk red pyjamas, he went into the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, “Feel free to watch anything.”

“Will do, chief!” Éponine called back, laughing to herself as she selected the fourth Harry Potter film and leaned back against the ridiculously fluffy pillows, gazing up at the star-studded sky as moonlight streamed into the bedroom through the skylight. She dove underneath the covers, making herself comfortable as she kept her gaze glued on the massive TV screen, almost not noticing when Enjolras came out of the bathroom in silk pyjamas, his golden curls damp. He joined her on the bed under the covers, about to snuggle up to her before he stopped himself.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked tentatively, never wanting for her boundaries to be crossed. “I can always sleep on the sofa if you want me to.”

Éponine snorted and slid off the bed, taking the towel out of her hair and shaking whatever was left of the water from her shower out of her thick, dark locks. After disappearing into the bathroom momentarily to presumably hang her towel up, she came back out and jumped back onto the bed, crawling under the covers and over to Enjolras. “You don’t have to go on the sofa,” she told him softly, looking up to gaze into his bright blue eyes. Had they always been that blue? “Remember what I said earlier? What if one of your parents comes in to wake us up and find us sleeping in separate places?”

“Good point,” Enjolras murmured in response, his breath catching in his throat when she snuggled up to him, resting her head on his chest as they turned their attention to the TV. He tried not to think about it too much, reminding himself that they often cuddled just like this during their movie marathons in their elaborate blanket forts back at home in Paris. He wrapped his arms around Éponine and pulled her closer to him as she let out an enormous yawn, completely worn out from the journey.

“Good night, Gabriel,” she whispered, her eyes closing as she made herself comfortable and snuggled up to him, her arm around his torso.

Enjolras felt his heart rate speed up at the feeling of her shallow breaths against the bit of exposed skin on his chest, and he murmured in reply, “Good night, ’Ponine.”


	4. 04.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi this story and i aren't dead!! granted, this is kind of rough and isn't the best chapter, but i promise the quality of the fic will get better with upcoming chapters, so please bear with me lmao

* * *

The next morning, Éponine woke up all wrapped up in Enjolras’ arms once more, and she turned her head to glance out the window to see the glow of the sun over the snowy hills. She sighed contentedly at the feeling of Enjolras’ arms around her and she made one slight movement before letting out a near inaudible squeak of surprise at the feeling of his morning erection poking at her back. She felt her face grow hot at the realisation, wondering why she was beginning to feel as if her heart was having palpitations at the feeling of his hard-on poking against her back. After a while, she relaxed a bit more in his arms, managing to convince herself that this wasn’t affecting her in the slightest, and she shifted slightly in his arms, laying her head on his chest and snuggling up to him. She glanced up at him, gazing at his peaceful face, his long lashes fluttering every so often as soft snores escaped his throat, and she reached up to gently run her fingers through his curls, beginning to wonder what life would be like if they were actually like this every day before she stopped herself.

This wasn’t real. This was all going to be over in a month.

Damn, she seriously needed to take a few classes in how to stop setting herself up for heartbreak.

 _Enjoy it while you can,_ she told herself, turning around to gaze up at him and holding her breath when he rolled over to lie on his back, snoring softly, his chest steadily rising and falling from his gentle breathing. After some time in which she just observed him peacefully sleeping, his blue eyes slowly blinked open to find her gazing up at him with a tiny smile on her face. His lips slowly curled into a smile as he reached over to stroke her hair, oddly affectionate that morning as he murmured, “Good morning, ’Ponine.”

Éponine bowed her head to smile rather giddily to herself, replying, “Morning, Gabe.”

Letting out a yawn, he turned his head and strained to read the numbers on the alarm clock, asking her, “What time is it?”

Éponine squinted at the bright red numbers, replying at last, “Eight or so. Why?”

Enjolras turned back to gaze down at her with that same strangely affectionate smile on his face as he gently stroked her hair, replying, “We have to meet my parents downstairs at nine, remember?”

Éponine petulantly stuck out her bottom lip. “But I’m so _tired_ ,” she whined in that stupid baby voice Enjolras had heard her use before during an argument with Courfeyrac, and he found it oddly endearing as she buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled as she mumbled absently, “By the way, I can feel your boner through your pants.”

Enjolras immediately felt his cheeks burn red at the thought of it, but he didn’t move due to how comfortable he felt with Éponine in his arms. He almost closed his eyes again, nearly forgetting that this was all just fake and he shouldn’t be feeling the butterflies he was feeling right now as Éponine buried her face in his chest, exhausted. He tried not to think about it too much, immediately failing when he blurted out without thinking, “Did I mention that you’re a good kisser?”

Éponine felt her cheeks grow hot at his absent-minded comment, blushing hard as she resisted an insane-sounding giggle and buried her face in his chest even more. She blushed even more upon remembering that his boner was still poking against her stomach, catching herself thinking of the sizeable length in his pants and promptly scolding herself for doing so. Out of all things, she shouldn’t be thinking about having sex with Enjolras. Hell, she shouldn’t be thinking of doing anything remotely sexual with him!

After lying in his arms for several moments, catching herself thinking more than once that she wouldn’t mind if she could wake up like this forever from now on, Éponine got up and hopped off the bed, grabbing some clothes out of her suitcase and practically skipping into the bathroom before Enjolras even had time to blink. Sitting up in bed, staring after her, he wondered what life would be like if this were all real.

 _Did I mention that you’re a good kisser?_ Enjolras cringed to think about what he had said to her without a second thought, even more so when he remembered what she had said about being able to feel his boner through his pants—thankfully, it had gone away by now. Gazing wistfully at the bathroom door, he caught himself thinking he wouldn’t mind awfully if they were actually an item before stopping himself from dwelling on it further; only heartbreak could come out of this if feelings happened to get in the way.

Sliding off the bed, he sidled over to the sliding glass doors to the balcony, thinking about stepping out to gaze out at the endless snow-covered hills before deciding against it, not wishing to freeze to death before he got a chance to show Éponine around the little town he had run around in as a child during the winter seasons from years ago. Failing to note how his stomach happily jolted at the thought of it, he watched how the powder-white snow was turned orange from the light of the morning sun as he heard the distant sound of the shower shutting off behind him. Turning around, he saw Éponine trudging out of the bathroom dressed in one of his hoodies and a pair of jeans, wringing the water out of her wet hair. Despite having seen her wear similar outfits every other day during the winter months, he still couldn’t help but stare at the way she was shaking the water out of her hair, transfixed and not noticing how she eventually realised that his blue eyes were on her.

A corner of Éponine’s lips quirked up in a smirk. “You’re staring, pretty boy,” she informed him, causing him to snap out of his trance and blush fiercely at being caught.

“Sorry,” he muttered under his breath, going over to his suitcase and taking some of the clothes he had packed before darting into the bathroom and out of sight, leaving Éponine standing alone in the room. Shoving her hands into the large front pocket of her hoodie, she went to stand by the window as Enjolras had done, staring out at the snow-covered hills in awe. She was envious of the life Enjolras used to have; while she had been out struggling in the streets, wondering if she was going to have dinner that night, he had been born into a life of luxury, and she still found it insane that he willingly chose to leave all that to live a simpler, humbler life. It reminded her of just how different they both were.

She didn’t realise just how long she had been standing there, staring out at the winter wonderland before her eyes while lost in thought, until she heard the bathroom door open behind her. She turned around and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Enjolras exiting the bathroom, wearing a tight-fitting button-up shirt that, surprisingly enough, wasn’t some shade of red—he had opted for azure blue instead, much to Éponine’s astonishment—a navy cardigan, and a pair of jeans; Éponine could catch a glimpse of the track bottoms he had on underneath his jeans. She could see his bulging muscles through that shirt and tried hard to keep herself from rolling her eyes to distract herself from thoughts of how attractive he looked. His blond curls were wet through, making his locks of gold appear darker, and her breath hitched when he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to get the remaining water out.

Jesus _fuck_.

“You, stop that,” Éponine barked out, making him jump in surprise at the frustration in her voice.

“Stop what?” Enjolras asked, dropping his hand to his side and seeming genuinely confused at what had her so annoyed.

“Stop doing that thing where you run your fingers through your hair! It’s distracting!” Éponine replied, sensing that dreaded burning feeling in her cheeks. Why was she so worked up over this? She’s seen him do that hundreds of times before and yet she was yelling at him about it now. Had she completely lost her mind?

Enjolras rolled his eyes and went over to grab a pair of fuzzy socks out of his suitcase as Éponine watched him, her arms crossed across her chest as she stood and waited for him to just put his damn socks on already so they could go meet his parents downstairs. Once he had done so, she trotted over to link her arm with his before she all but dragged him out the door, briskly walking down the hall on their way to the stairs.

“Ready?” Enjolras muttered under his breath as they stood at the top of the staircase, about to make their way down to meet his parents downstairs as they had done last night before dinner. Éponine nodded briskly, detaching her arm from his so she could slip her hand into his, lacing their fingers together and oblivious to how he tensed up for a few milliseconds before regaining his composure as they began walking down the stairs, hand in hand.

They met Agathe and Sébastien in the foyer, where the pair were already fully dressed in their winter gear, and a wide smile identical to Enjolras’ spread across Agathe’s face when she saw her son and Éponine walking in together, their hands clasped tight and similar rosy blushes on their cheeks. “Oh, there you two are!” Agathe greeted cheerfully, smiling at them both as they unclasped hands with some slight hesitation before taking their coats and hats and scarves. “We were wondering if you would ever show up.”

Enjolras felt his cheeks burn from the implications in his mother’s words, choosing not to reply as he pulled his grey beanie over his golden curls and buttoned up his coat while Éponine did the same, placing her brown newsboy cap on her head and tossing her Gryffindor scarf around her neck once she had zipped up her long, black puffy knee-length coat. Enjolras didn’t realise how he was watching her as she pulled her fitted black gloves over her hands, only catching himself looking when she looked back up to meet his eyes and flushed red at the sight of him watching her.

He quickly regained his composure and took her hand again once he had slipped his own gloves on, standing there as Sébastien opened the heavy front door for them and a gust of frigid air came rushing in. Shivering, Éponine dragged Enjolras forward without thinking and let out a squeal once she was ankle-deep in the snow, jumping up and down in place as Agathe and Sébastien soon followed them out, warm smiles on their faces at the sight of Éponine moving closer to Enjolras for more warmth.

She wrapped her arms tight around his midriff, letting him put an arm around her shoulders as she clung to him for warmth. Enjolras chuckled, remembering that they were supposed to be milking this fake relationship for all its worth and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Are you cold?”

Éponine nodded vigorously, one arm falling back to her side as they began to walk down the path to the parking lot at the bottom of the hill, although one arm was still around Enjolras’ waist as they trudged down the hill together, trailing after Agathe and Sébastien. The frigid air nipped at their noses and Éponine scrunched her face up before her arm fell from Enjolras’ side so she could slip her hand into his, swinging their arms as she gazed up at the cloudy heavens, smiling as snowflakes lazily drifted down. Try as he might, Enjolras couldn’t help but smile at how she was swinging his arm along with hers, their fingers tightly intertwined.

“Do you want to take a car or walk?” Agathe asked cheerily, turning to her son and Éponine, though really, it was really just Éponine she was addressing. “The town’s not far from here, just a couple of miles or so, but if you want to a car into town, then we can arrange that.”

“Oh, I have no problem with walking,” Éponine replied, a bright-eyed smile that could split her face in half looking as if it could light up the entire world. “I don’t work out a lot, so we could walk. Get some exercise while we can.”

Sébastien let out a gruff laugh, his gloved hands in his coat pockets as he candidly told his son, “Gabriel, I like this one.” The words “keep her” weren’t outright stated, but the implication of them hung heavily in the air as they started walking on their way to town, Enjolras’ cheeks flushed red, though Éponine remained oblivious to the real reason why, thinking he was just red from the stinging cold.

She swung her arm as they walked down the icy roads, causing Enjolras’ arm to swing as well, and she shivered and huddled closer to him as the snowfall increased in quantity as they were nearing town. It was an adorable, quaint little place—fairy lights strung up everywhere, bright reds, yellows, greens, and blues, and lights illuminated the windows of the buildings, pearly-white snow lining the streets and street lights giving off a soft yellow glow. The lampposts were intricate, elegant, and Éponine could see in the distance a little fountain in the middle of what appeared to be the town square. Really, it was more a village than a town; she found herself musing how it looked like something right out of a postcard.

“They’ve got great bars here,” Enjolras murmured to Éponine, giving her hand a squeeze when she shivered from the freezing cold. “And really nice restaurants. And souvenir shops, if you’re into that kind of thing.”

Éponine looked up at him and her lips curved into a little smile. “I think I’ll get something for the others.”

They stopped in their tracks and Enjolras leaned in to kiss her forehead before drawing back and smiling at her, a little too affectionate, but thankfully, she didn’t pick up on the way the look in his blue eyes softened as he gazed at her. “Whatever you want.”

Agathe cooed at the sight, bringing the two of them back to earth, and Éponine could feel the blood rushing into her face and undoubtedly bringing a blush to her cheeks as she and Enjolras simultaneously looked back at his parents.

“Is there any place in particular you want to visit that you had in mind, Éponine?” Agathe asked, beaming at her.

Éponine gave a shrug of her shoulders. “Not really, no. I’m always up for some shopping, though.”

Agathe’s bright blue eyes—so identical to her son’s, Éponine couldn’t help but noticing for probably the fiftieth time since she met her—sparkled as her face lit up with a smile. “Oh, I know just the right places for you!”

* * *

“Warmth again! Oh, heat, how I’ve missed you.”

Éponine had shopping bags dangling from both hands, Enjolras carrying half of her purchases after she found that she couldn’t hold any more than she already was, as she gaily trudged back into the log cabin, stooping down to carefully place her acquisitions on the hardwood floors before kicking off her boots and sighing contentedly as warmth engulfed her once more. Augustin was just beginning to walk forward to take Éponine’s things up to her and Enjolras’ bedroom for her before she politely rebuked him.

“Oh, it’s okay, I can take them upstairs myself,” she assured him, giving him a gracious little smile.

She remained blissfully oblivious to how Enjolras was gazing at her fondly as she thanked Augustin for the thought nonetheless before sending him on his way.

Straightening her back and clicking her tongue in satisfaction, Éponine turned around just in time to see Sébastien closing the door behind him after he and Agathe entered the cabin. “Thank you so much, Agathe,” Éponine told her brightly when the older woman made her way over to her. “I had a great time.”

Agathe beamed up at Éponine—really, it was obvious, so very obvious, where Enjolras got his brilliant sunshine smile from. “It was my pleasure, Éponine. What do you think about going to my brother-in-law’s ski resort tomorrow?”

Éponine considered it for a few moments. “I’ll think about it.”

Agathe smiled and patted Éponine on the shoulder. “Well, you and Gabriel should go freshen up, I’m sure you must be exhausted after the day we’ve had. Dinner will be ready in an hour or so.”

“Noted,” Éponine quipped, her smile growing wider, just slightly. “Thanks so much, Agathe. Again. For everything.”

Agathe nodded and patted Éponine’s shoulder once more before going off into the kitchen, presumably to inform the cook what they wanted for dinner. Meanwhile, Sébastien had pulled Enjolras aside to speak with his son privately.

“I like her, Gabriel,” Sébastien told him candidly, looking over at Éponine, who had her hands clasped behind her back as she wandered around the living room, admiring her surroundings. “She’s good for you.”

Enjolras’ heartbeat quickened at Sébastien’s words. His father had always been such a shrewd person; were he and Éponine really that convincing if they had managed to fool even Sébastien? What could that possibly mean for his and Éponine’s relationship, in general?

He swallowed, managing to say, “You really think so, Father?”

Sébastien nodded. “Yes, I do,” he replied in a low voice. “She’s much more pleasant than the people you brought home as a teenager, anyway.”

Enjolras flushed red at the reminder—over the course of his teenage years, he had brought exactly two people home, a somewhat crass Greek girl he thought he had liked mostly due to peer pressure back at fifteen and a boy from Argentina who had been nice enough but got too nervous around Agathe and Sébastien who he had gone out with for three weeks when he was seventeen.

“Keep her around,” Sébastien advised Enjolras, stealing a sideways glance at Éponine, who was now beginning to pick up half her purchases to take upstairs, the other half in Enjolras’ hands. He reached out to give his son a pat on the back before walking off, disappearing into another room.

Enjolras took it as his cue to walk over to Éponine, his heart rate rising a little when Éponine turned to face him upon hearing him approaching and her eyes lit up, a dimpled smile finding its way onto her face.

“Hey,” she chirped, gazing up into his eyes, and if he didn’t know better, he might have thought that he saw affection in her deep brown eyes. “Want to go upstairs?”

He hesitated a moment too long before nodding hastily. “Yes. Yes, come on.”

It took longer than usual for them to trudge up the stairs, with all their baggage, and once inside their room, Éponine went over to dump her things into her suitcase before she threw herself onto the bed, making herself comfortable among the silk sheets, sighing.

She sat up as Enjolras closed the door behind him and approached the bed, sliding off the bed to slide on the hardwood floors over to him in her fuzzy socks, grinning up at him as they came face to face.

“You were great,” he murmured to her, leaning in to impulsively press his lips to her forehead in a kiss.

Éponine tensed up for a split second at the feeling of Enjolras’ lips brushing her forehead before he pulled away, and her cheeks grew warm as she looked up at him. “There’s nobody around, Gabe, we don’t have to keep pretending,” she whispered to him, blushing under the weight of his gaze.

Enjolras’ smile faltered for a moment, so brief Éponine didn’t notice, at her innocent reminder. He was sure she hadn’t meant any harm by reminding him; he supposed he should be grateful for her keeping him grounded. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a slight sinking feeling in his chest at her words, scolding himself for getting so caught up in this pretence in the first place.

Clearing his throat, Enjolras bit his lip, looking down at his feet so she wouldn’t see the slight disappointment that shouldn’t even be there in the first place in his eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be,” Éponine assured him, reaching up to somewhat awkwardly pat him on the shoulder before she went back over to her suitcase and grabbing a fresh set of clothes to change into. “So what is there to do around here besides skiing at your uncle’s ski lodge and going on shopping sprees in town?” she called over her shoulder.

Enjolras shrugged as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and sat down at the edge of the bed. “There’s a pond a few miles away from here, and it usually freezes over during winter,” he told her. “We can go skating there sometime if you want; you can borrow my mother’s skates, they look like they would fit you.”

Éponine stood back up and turned around to smile at him. “I just might take you up on that offer.”

She marched past him and into the bathroom, locking the door behind her, her arms full of clothes, and Enjolras lay back on the bed, staring up at the orange red-streaked skies through the skylight, sighing. Why the hell did he feel so weird when she candidly reminded him of how this was all fake and they were just pretending, clueless to the way his face fell at her words? He searched his mind for any possible reasons, but none of them he deemed satisfactory enough, so he lay there, lost in thought as he watched the skies darken through the skylight.

He was soon interrupted by Éponine emerging from the bathroom, hair slightly damp as she rubbed the water out with a towel, dressed in sweatpants and a maroon tank top. She approached the bed, pulling Enjolras’ Disneyland hoodie over her head and hopping up to sit beside him. “You okay there?” she asked, reaching out to tentatively brush her fingers against his arm as he looked up at her.

Enjolras mustered a smile, nodding. “I’m fine.”

“No offence, but you don’t look ‘fine’ right now,” Éponine told him bluntly, grinning when she managed to draw a chuckle from him. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s nothing, Éponine,” Enjolras told her, firmer. “Don’t worry about it.”

Éponine raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t press him any further, saying simply, “Okay, then.”

She swung her legs up onto the bed to sit cross-legged as Enjolras sat up beside her, leaning back against the headboard and sighing. “There’s a hot tub out back, if you want to use it,” he mumbled to Éponine as she leaned against the headboard beside him.

Éponine frowned to herself. “I don’t think I packed a bathing suit.”

“I can buy you one in town,” Enjolras offered. “If you want.”

Éponine’s cheeks warmed at his offer, and she bit her lip to keep herself from smiling too much. What the fuck was wrong with her? “I’m fine, I can buy myself one. Thanks for the offer, though.”

She grabbed the TV remote off the nightstand and pointed it towards the television, turning on _Ocean’s 8_ in an attempt to keep the silence between her and Enjolras from growing too awkward, pulling the blankets over her lap and making herself comfortable against the fluffed-up pillows. She’d always had a weakness for movies starring Anne Hathaway.

She caught herself drifting closer to Enjolras; by the time Augustin knocked on their door to inform them that dinner was waiting for them downstairs, she was snuggled up against him, clinging to his arm and her head resting against his shoulder, his own head resting against hers.

Éponine jumped at the sound of three sharp raps on the door, looking up as Enjolras did the same. “Come in!” he called out.

Augustin opened the door and took a single step inside. “Dinner is ready, Monsieur, Mademoiselle,” he informed them. “Monsieur, your parents would like you to join them downstairs in the dining hall.”

“We’ll be right down,” Enjolras told him. “Thank you, Augustin.”

The butler nodded at them before exiting the room, leaving the two of them alone together once more. Éponine took a deep breath and sat up, looking up into Enjolras’ eyes.

“Looks like it’s time for us to start pretending again,” she announced. “You ready?”

Enjolras smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s go.”


	5. 05.

The next week turned out to be one of the best of Éponine’s life thus far—just the right mixture of socialising and downtime, with excursions to the quaint little town, one of many in the French Alps, and getting to know Enjolras’ parents better under the guise of being his girlfriend. She wondered how long they were going to be keeping up this deception for—Enjolras had told her that his parents absolutely adored her and wanted him to keep her around, but she wondered how the hell they were supposed to do that if this was all just fake. She didn’t want to break their poor hearts by staging a breakup, but that was inevitable, given how this was all fake.

All fake, she kept having to remind herself.

The highlight of her week was easily when she went along with Enjolras and his parents to his uncle’s ski resort further up in the mountains, four days after first arriving at the log cabin.

Morning dawned on the day they were meant to go out to Enjolras’ uncle’s ski resort, and Éponine rolled over and groaned her refusal to get out of bed as she buried her face in one of the numerous fluffed-up pillows after Enjolras gently tried to shake her awake.

“No,” she moaned petulantly, kicking at the mattress as she lay on her stomach. She knew damn well she shouldn’t be testing Enjolras’ patience, but damn it, she was so fucking _tired_ from the previous day, which had consisted of too much socialisation than she was used to—it seemed that a few of Enjolras’ family friends lived in town, all of whom Éponine had promptly been introduced to. She had successfully managed to charm the pants off all of them, but she couldn’t help but think about how it would make her and Enjolras’ inevitable “breakup” so much more painful.

“’Ponine, we have to get up.” He gently shook her again, only for Éponine to elbow him, nearly hitting him in the nose, before she buried her face further into her pillow and pulled the blankets over her head as she let out an unearthly groan.

Sighing, Enjolras leaned down to her level in another attempt to coax her out of bed, whispering in her ear, “We’re going to my Uncle Armand’s ski resort today, remember?”

Éponine pulled the blanket down to her neck. “We’re going to the ski lodge?”

Enjolras chuckled and nodded. “I wouldn’t call it simply a ski lodge, but yes, we are.”

Éponine lifted her head up just slightly to look at him through clouded brown eyes, tangled hair falling into her face. Upon further inspection, she noted that he was already fully dressed, clad in loose-fitting jeans layered over track bottoms and a burgundy parka with a faux fur-lined hood, a bluish-grey beanie tucked into his coat pocket. She watched him as he checked his watch for the time, heart skipping a beat when he clicked his tongue.

“We’re already running a little late,” he told her, biting his lip. “We really should get a move on.”

Éponine finally sat up in bed, eyes raking over him. “I don’t think that’s the kind of thing you wear when skiing,” she remarked teasingly, gesturing to his jeans.

Enjolras cracked a little smile. “My family keeps our skiing gear at my uncle’s ski resort. They also sell some there, if you don’t have any. I could buy some for you, if you’d like.”

Éponine scrunched up her face as her lips stretched into a little smile. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll buy it myself.”

“I’ll talk my uncle into giving you a discount, then,” Enjolras tried at a compromise.

Éponine gave him a little grin. “That’d be appreciated, thanks.”

“You’ll have to get out of bed first, though,” Enjolras reminded her, nudging her slightly.

Éponine sighed long and loud as she finally relented, sitting up in bed and groaning. “Ugh, _fine_.” She scooted over to the edge of the bed to slide off and go over to her suitcase to grab some suitable clothes, and Enjolras almost thought he heard her mumble as she traipsed past him and into the bathroom, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Enjolras’ cheeks instantly flushed red at her offhand comment, watching as she slammed the bathroom door behind him, the muffled sound of running water soon able to be heard through the door. Shaking the thought out of his head, he got up to wrap a navy blue scarf around his neck and go out onto the balcony to admire the view as he waited for Éponine to finish showering. As he stood there looking out at the golden light blanketing the snowy hills, he wondered, just for a fleeting moment, what it would be like if this was to be what his holidays for the rest of his life would be like before he narrowly stopped himself from pondering it too much.

They were just pretending, after all.

He bit his lip as he shoved his hands into his pockets, gazing out at into the distance at the snow-covered hills as he thought about the whirlwind of emotions he had gone through in the past week. Had he always felt a certain way about Éponine? He probably hadn’t, but at some point, maybe he subconsciously developed a slight crush on her. That seemed to be the most plausible explanation as to why he was feeling this way right now, with the way butterflies gnawed away at his insides every time she so much as smiled at him.

He sighed, watching the little cloud his breath made in the freezing air evaporate before his eyes as he wondered why on earth he was feeling this specific way. She was a great confidante, having become one of his closest friends over the past few years, and he liked that he could engage in enthusiastic debate with her, though it had resulted in many a lighthearted argument. Then there was her fierce devotion to her younger siblings as well as her determination towards making sure that no child ever went through what she and her own siblings had gone through growing up; of all the things he loved (platonically, of course. Though at this point, he wasn’t sure anymore) about her, that had to be the one trait she possessed that he loved the most.

If he was going to look at it in a more superficial way, it helped that she was undoubtedly an attractive young woman as well, with her dimpled smile and warm, inviting brown eyes, as well as her petite form, all slight curves and warm-toned olive skin that contrasted against his own fair, cool-toned complexion. He liked the way her dark, wavy brown locks tumbled wildly down her shoulders, reaching to just above her chest, and she always had a somewhat ruminative look about her, sly and shrewd.

Shit. Maybe he really was developing feelings for her. Or maybe he had had these feelings for a long time now and was only now just beginning to realise it with their little deception.

Before he could give it any more thought, he heard footsteps dulled by the snow on the balcony from behind him and turned around to see Éponine approaching him, already all wrapped up in her black knee-length coat and her Gryffindor scarf wrapped around her neck, her brown newsboy cap upon her head as usual and her boots zipped up. “Hey,” she greeted him, smiling as she approached.

Enjolras smiled back, toying with the beanie in his hands. “Hi.”

The sun was still low on the horizon, the baby blue skies tinged with all sorts of pleasant shades of orange and pink, and Éponine went to stand by him, to appreciate the view. Enjolras couldn’t help but notice how she was standing much closer to him than was probably necessary, their sides practically pressed up against each other, before he chastised himself for reading too much into this.

After a while, he cleared his throat and told her, “We should get going.”

Éponine looked up at the sound of his voice and nodded, looping her arm through his. “Okay, then let’s go.”

They met with Agathe and Sébastien in the foyer before going on down into the parking lot, where the car was already all warmed up and ready for them to go, Augustin waiting to be dismissed down by the vehicle. Once Sébastien had politely dismissed the butler and sent him back up into the cabin, he got into the driver’s seat while Agathe claimed shotgun, leaving Éponine and Enjolras with the backseat, and it was small but comfy, Éponine snuggling into Enjolras out of instinct as Sébastien began to drive.

“How long will it take until we get there?” Éponine asked, wrapping her coat tighter around her shoulders.

“It won’t be long,” Sébastien assured her. “Just a half hour or so.”

About five minutes passed by in total silence before it was broken by Agathe. The older woman turned around in her seat to look at her son and Éponine, asking the latter, “Where are you from, Éponine? I don’t think I’ve asked you before.”

Éponine gave a polite smile, replying, “I’m half-Moroccan, on my mother’s side. My father has roots in Spain. I’ve lived here in France all my life, though.”

Enjolras watched as Éponine exchanged words with his mother, a ghost of a fond smile upon his face at the way Éponine’s eyes sparkled as she enthusiastically discussed her heritage. It wasn’t long before they were pulling into the parking lot of the ski resort, into the area designated for family members, and once they had gotten out of the car, Éponine gasped.

It was absolutely magnificent—tall, enormous wooden buildings providing rooming for guests, chairlifts and gondola lifts running up and down along the side of the mountain. Glittering fairy lights could be seen strung up along the rooftops, the scent of pine wafting through the air from the evergreen woods surrounding the resort. Éponine had been mistaken in thinking it was a simple ski lodge, for it was a whole resort complex set high in the French Alps.

Enjolras went to stand by her and smiled at the awestruck look on her face, taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “Like what you see?”

Éponine looked up at him, the amazed look on her face having been replaced by a lewd grin at his words. “That’s what she said.”

Enjolras blushed scarlet to the roots of his hair, bowing his head. “Jesus Christ, ’Ponine.”

Her grin grew wider and she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, whispering, “I love it.”

His cheeks went pink upon feeling her lips lightly brushing his skin, a little smile on his face by the time Agathe and Sébastien had caught up to them after getting out of the car. “Let’s get going, Armand is waiting inside,” Sébastien invited, smiling at Éponine after catching a glimpse of the thunderstruck look on her face. She was quick to snap out of it and nodded, clinging to Enjolras’ arm as they strolled into the lobby of the main building.

The lobby was tastefully decorated, people bustling about, with several receptionists behind the counter directly before the automatic sliding glass doors, talking to the guests. People were walking about dressed in full ski gear, skis and poles in hand, and Éponine was so swept up in observing them, she hardly noticed a man calling out Enjolras’ father’s name.

“Sébastien!” Before she could process what was happening, Enjolras was gently tugging her along as they and his parents approached the man calling out to Sébastien, an attractive, jolly-looking fellow with wavy honey-blond hair and sparkling green eyes, a man who bore a striking resemblance to Sébastien, albeit younger. Éponine was caught off-guard by how young Enjolras’ uncle looked; she had expected someone older and stern, not this smiling, handsome man with emerald eyes who looked like he was in his mid-forties at the most.

“Uncle Armand!” Enjolras let go of Éponine’s hand to jog up to his uncle, who spread his arms out in an invitation for an embrace, laughing heartily as he wrapped his arms tight around his nephew.

“Long time, no see, little Gabe,” Armand remarked once Enjolras had let go of him, looking the young man up and down. “Not so little anymore, I see!”

Sébastien chuckled as he walked up to his brother, embracing him. “Hello, Armand.”

Armand grinned, and Éponine saw that he had dimples, just like her. “Good to see you again, Seb.”

He and Agathe exchanged warm greetings before his gaze drifted to Éponine, who, up until that moment, had just been standing there, silent. A wide grin broke out across his face as he enquired, “Well, who’s this lovely young lady? Gabriel, why haven’t you introduced her yet?”

Enjolras laughed and put his arm around Éponine, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “This is Éponine, Uncle. My girlfriend.”

Armand stuck out his hand for Éponine to shake, beaming at her. “Nice to meet you, Éponine!”

Éponine couldn’t help but grin back; the man’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Nice meeting you too, Monsieur.”

“God, no, Armand will do just fine. Armie’s good, too.” He shook his head, grinning at her. “Hey, you’ve got dimples, just like me!”

Éponine laughed and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Armand smiled at her before redirecting his attention to Enjolras, saying accusingly, “You never told me you had a girlfriend, Gabriel. What other secrets are you hiding from me?”

Enjolras turned pink. “My and Éponine’s relationship was a recent development,” he replied, barely managing not to stumble over his words. His lies. “And I promise I’m not hiding anything.”

Armand gave Enjolras a look before he seemingly dropped it, saying, “Well, I suppose the polite thing to do now would be to show you around the place, right? For Éponine’s sake?”

Agathe laughed. “We were hoping you could do that, yes.”

Armand smiled. “Well, you’re in luck. Come with me!”

Éponine was still in the midst of registering what had just happened when Armand began to lead them around, telling them to wrap their coats tighter around themselves as they went out into a courtyard, where guests leisurely milled about. As they were led around the resort, Éponine found that there was an entire building functioning as a massive multi-storeyed canteen with the ground floor serving as a bar and buffet, beside which stood a smaller building, a little shop selling ski equipment and winter gear as well as swimsuits. Each building providing guest rooms for guests had a heated indoor pool as well as a hot tub, and there was a three-storey house a little farther away from the rest reserved specifically for family members and their personal guests.

“Here’s where I live,” Armand announced when they entered his place, a tad bit bigger than Agathe and Sébastien’s log cabin. Immediately, a little boy who seemed to be about eight or nine years of age came hurtling towards them, nearly knocking Enjolras off his feet as he wrapped his arms around his waist.

“Gabe!” the boy yelled out joyously, jumping up and down and positively bursting with excitement. He turned his head towards Armand and called, “Papa, you didn’t tell us Gabe was coming!”

Armand laughed. “Sorry about that, buddy.”

Enjolras ruffled the boy’s dirty-blond hair, chuckling as he greeted, “Hey there, Eddie. It’s been a long time.”

The boy—Eddie, Éponine assumed his name was, with how Enjolras called him that—detached himself from the golden-haired man and turned to Éponine, looking up at her through inquisitive green eyes. “Who are you?” he questioned bluntly, eliciting a laugh from Enjolras.

“Is that any way to greet a lady, Edmond?” he chastised, patting the boy on the back.

Eddie stuck his tongue out at Enjolras before turning back to Éponine, sticking his hand out. “I’m Edmond,” he introduced himself, sticking out his little chest with pride. “But everyone calls me Eddie.”

Éponine couldn’t help but smile, readily shaking his hand. “Hi, Eddie, I’m Éponine.”

“Why are you here with Gabe and Uncle Sébastien and Auntie Agathe?” Eddie asked inquisitively.

Enjolras ruffled his little cousin’s hair once again. “So nosy,” he teased. “For your information, Eddie, ’Ponine is my girlfriend.”

Eddie’s eyes widened at this revelation, and almost instantly, he opened his mouth and hollered, “Elodie!”

Éponine looked up through widened brown eyes at the sound of little footfalls steadily increasing in volume, a girl emerging from what seemed to be the kitchen and running to the source of Eddie’s voice. “What is it?” she asked impatiently, crossing her arms across her chest.

Eddie gestured up at Enjolras, grinning. “Gabe is here!”

Elodie looked up, a stunned look appearing on her face, before she beamed and jumped up as best as she could to throw her arms around Enjolras’ neck. “Gabe!”

Éponine laughed, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets as she watched the endearing little scene unfold before her eyes. Her laughter caught Elodie’s attention and the blonde girl turned her head, hazel eyes widening even further at the sight of this strange young woman there with Enjolras. As if sensing Elodie’s puzzlement, Enjolras placed her on the floor and told her, “Elodie, this is my girlfriend, Éponine.”

Elodie smiled up at Éponine, angelic, the picture of innocence. “It’s nice to meet you, Mam'selle Éponine.”

Éponine giggled, flustered by such formalities coming from the mouth of this sweet little girl. “Nice to meet you too, Elodie. And please, just call me Éponine.”

“Gabe’s got a _girlfriend_ ,” Eddie singsonged, drawing out the word ‘girlfriend’ for all its worth and bursting into a fit of hysterical laughter when Enjolras’ face flamed scarlet.

“That’s enough, Eddie,” Armand chided, walking back over to Éponine and Enjolras to gently reprimand Eddie and Elodie. “Run along now, Gabe is very busy.”

Eddie stuck his tongue out at his father before scampering off, Elodie close behind him. Éponine turned to Armand, a little smile on her face.

“Twins?” she guessed.

Armand nodded. “Yep. They just turned nine back in August.”

“They seem like a handful,” she commented, her gaze drifting to the pair, who were now taking the stairs two at a time, seeming to race each other upstairs, before disappearing out of sight.

“They are,” Armand replied, chuckling. “I’ve gotten used to it, though. Always have been.” After a brief pause, he asked, “Would you mind if I left you two alone for a bit? I have some business to attend to.”

“No problem,” Enjolras assured him. “We’ll be here.”

Armand nodded briskly and walked off, leaving Éponine and Enjolras alone together. Sébastien and Agathe had followed their niece and nephew upstairs, so Enjolras led Éponine to one of the sofas in that spacious living room they were currently in and they both made themselves comfortable, Éponine taking her cap off before swinging her legs up onto the seat and snuggling into Enjolras like it was nothing. It was almost scary how comfortable she had become pretending to be his girlfriend. Had she been alone, she probably would have started overthinking it.

“Damn, just how old is your uncle?” she questioned quietly, head resting on his shoulder, butterflies gnawing away at the walls of her stomach at the feeling of Enjolras’ hand resting on her arm as he put his arm around her. “I honestly thought he would’ve been older than he is.”

Enjolras laughed, low and soft. “He’s forty-three,” he replied. “He was seventeen when I was born. The same age I was when Eddie and Elodie were born, actually. Well, almost.”

“He said he’s always been used to handling the twins,” Éponine said, offhand. “What did he mean by that?”

Enjolras bit his lip, hesitant to tell her the truth. After several lengthy moments of contemplation, he told her quietly, “His wife—my Aunt Coralie—she died about four years after Eddie and Elodie were born. Ovarian cancer. The twins were almost three at that point. He’s been taking care of them by himself ever since.”

Éponine’s mouth formed a tiny ‘O’ at this information, her face falling. “Oh.” She couldn’t find the right words; how the hell was one supposed to respond to such a disclosure without coming off as unintentionally insensitive? “God, Gabriel, if I had known… I wouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”

He patted her arm, tender as could be. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “He’s been managing pretty well. Of course, it helps that he owns and runs the ski resort; managing this place gets him more than enough money to meet Eddie and Elodie’s needs, and most of the time, their wants too.”

“Yeah, how the hell did he even become owner of this place?” Éponine asked, rather incredulous.

Enjolras laughed wryly. “My grandfather gave my father and Uncle Armand the decision to choose whether they wanted to inherit his law firm or the family ski resort,” he explained. “Guess who chose which.”

Éponine looked up at him and grinned. “Is that why you became a lawyer, because your dad inherited the law firm?”

Enjolras shrugged, noncommittal. “Well, I’m set to inherit it anyway, so. Yes, I suppose that’s why, though it mostly had to do with how I want to help my clients as best as I can so their voices can be heard.”

Éponine smiled at him, genuine, her brown eyes softening. They weren’t that different, she noted to herself—he became a lawyer to help his clients seek justice, while she became a social worker to ensure that no child would ever have to go through the absolute hell she and her own siblings went through as children. Had this arrangement between them not been fake, they would have made quite the pair.

“That’s one hell of an age gap between you and Eddie and Elodie,” she commented, changing the subject to keep her mind from straying back to thoughts of how their fake relationship would have to end eventually, as it always inevitably did. Why did she have to keep thinking so much about that? More importantly, why the hell did she care in the first place about the fact that it was going to have to end at some point anyway?

Enjolras laughed, nodding in agreement. “Honestly, I think they see me as more of a laid-back uncle than their cousin.”

Éponine snorted, remarking cheekily, “Laid-back? In what universe?”

Enjolras lightly smacked her arm, turning pink in mortification, but before he could say any more on the matter, Armand soon came back into the house, cheeks flushed red from the stinging cold. “You two ready to go skiing?”

Éponine’s eyes widened, caught off-guard. “I—I don’t know how to ski,” she admitted, standing up as Enjolras did the same. “And I don’t—I don’t have any ski gear.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Armand assured her. “I can lend you my wife’s old ski equipment, so you won’t have to buy any from the store.” He looked her up and down, biting his lip and sighing wistfully. “She was the same size as you were. Let me go get them, they’re upstairs. Gabriel, where are your parents?”

“Upstairs, with the twins,” Enjolras replied.

Armand nodded and dashed off in the direction of the staircase, leaving them alone together once again. Éponine pulled a face, frowning to herself.

“Oh, God, I’m going to fucking embarrass myself in front of your family,” she muttered, biting her lip. “I bet Eddie and Elodie have been skiing since they first started to walk. Fuck, I’m going to look ridiculous trying to ski next to them.”

“Well, not since they _first_ started to walk,” Enjolras responded, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her arm a squeeze. “It’ll be fine, ’Ponine. We’ll start out on the green slope, and I can teach you how to ski.”

“But then all the little kids there will laugh at me!” she whined, scrunching up her face and exaggerating her despair. “I can handle adults laughing at me, but little kids?” She shuddered at the thought of it, squeezing her eyes shut and pouting.

“Like I said.” Enjolras pressed a tentative kiss to the top of her head, bracing himself for her probably inevitably chastising him for doing so since there was nobody else around and therefore they didn’t have to keep pretending. “I’ll teach you how to ski. Everything will be all right, I promise.”

Éponine’s cheeks grew warm when she felt his lips pressing into her hair; maybe it was just her, but it felt as if the faint lines between what was fake and what wasn’t were beginning to grow even blurrier as the days passed by. She decided not to get on his case about kissing her even when he didn’t have to, knowing he was only trying to make her feel better. “Thanks, Gabe,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Enjolras smiled, about to say more before they were interrupted by the sound of the twins thundering down the stairs with their little skis and poles in hand, dressed in full ski gear and hollering as Agathe, Sébastien, and Armand closely followed them. In Armand’s arms were a parka, a ski suit, boots, gloves, goggles, bindings, and a helmet, Sébastien carrying five pairs of skis and poles, and they were all already dressed in their parkas and ski suits, Agathe carrying Enjolras’ over to him while Armand approached Éponine and handed her Coralie’s old outfit. “Here you go, these should fit you,” he told her cheerfully.

“We’ll be here while you two go change,” Agathe called, watching as they trudged upstairs to change into their ski gear.

* * *

Éponine thought she was going to die out of sheer nerves as they went on their way to the slopes, Eddie dragging Sébastien and Agathe off to the red slope once they had gotten there while Elodie remained with Éponine and Enjolras on the green slope. Armand was about to join them before he got a call and had to leave temporarily, leaving Elodie in Enjolras’ hands.

“Do you know how to ski, Éponine?” Elodie asked innocently, looking up at the young woman with a smile on her face.

Éponine laughed nervously, shaking her head. Her helmet was secure on her head, goggles placed on top of the helmet. “Never had enough money to do it until now, so no, I don’t.”

“It’s easy!” Elodie demonstrated for her, leaning forward and using her poles to propel herself as she whizzed down the slope with ease, waving at them once she came to a stop at the bottom of the hill. How a nine-year-old could make skiing look so effortless, Éponine had no goddamn idea.

“I’m going to fall on my ass and she’s going to laugh at me,” Éponine muttered, pacing back and forth in the snow. She still had yet to strap her skis onto her boots, stalling in doing so due to her refusal to look like a complete idiot in front of all these little kids around her. Granted, there weren’t many; they had come to the resort during one of the few days most of the guests decided to kick back and relax indoors, but there were still small children around, and Éponine would much rather die before she made a fool out of herself in front of them. Kids could be so judgemental.

“She won’t,” Enjolras promised her, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at how dramatic she was being. “Really, Eddie would be the one to make fun of you, but that’s because he’s a little shit. It’s a good thing he’s with my parents on the red slope, right?”

“How the fuck is he allowed on there?” Éponine asked incredulously. “He’s nine!”

Enjolras laughed dryly. “Well, you did guess that he and Elodie have been skiing since they first learned to walk. You aren’t entirely wrong.”

“Éponine!” they heard Elodie call out from the bottom of the hill, and Éponine turned her head to see the little blonde girl stomping her foot impatiently.

“Come on, I’ll help you put on your skis.” Despite Éponine’s repeated protests, Enjolras briskly trudged over and got to his knees in the snow, taking Éponine’s gloved hand to take her down with him, and he went about strapping the skis onto the soles of her boots, finishing in doing so in no time. Standing back up, he took her hands and helped her to her feet.

Éponine scrunched up her nose. “Why aren’t _you_ putting on your skis?” she asked, underlying suspicion in her voice.

“I can’t exactly teach you how to ski if I’ve got skis on as well,” Enjolras replied matter-of-factly. “Here, hold on to my hands.”

Éponine hesitated for several moments before doing as she was told, taking Enjolras’ hands in hers. “Now what?”

“Flex your ankles and stay upright, centred,” Enjolras explained, doing his best to keep the smile off his face at the way Éponine was gripping his hands for dear life. “Yes, just like that. Pay attention to how much weight is in the front part of your foot—leaning forward but keeping your weight in your heels keeps your weight back.” He gently pulled her along, making sure not to let her trip and fall as he did so. “You’re getting it!”

“Am I _really_?” Éponine sounded unconvinced, still grasping Enjolras’ gloved hands as if her life depended on it.

“Just trust me, ’Ponine,” Enjolras told her, patient as could be. “Keep your feet forward. There you go, you’re getting it. Do you want to try it yourself with your poles?”

“Like I said, I’m going to fall on my ass and make a fool out of myself,” Éponine pointed out humourlessly.

“If you keep yourself in control, you won’t,” Enjolras promised. “Remember—flex your ankles and stay upright to stay centred. Keep your weight in your heels when leaning forward to keep your centre of gravity. Use the poles to push yourself forward downhill. Stay here, I’ll get them for you.”

He let go of her hands and jogged back uphill to grab her ski poles as well as his own skis and poles, carefully trudging back downhill with them in hand and handing the poles to her before he got down to strap his skis on, quickly standing back up once he had done so. Noticing Éponine’s apprehension, he reached out to take her hand in his and give it a quick squeeze.

“Hey,” he murmured as she turned her head to look up at him through wide brown eyes. “You’ll never know until you try.”

Éponine made it all the way to the bottom of the hill without falling all over herself. Well, almost.

Enjolras was a little ways ahead of her by the time they were nearing the foot of the hill, and up until that moment, she had been doing just fine, much to her own surprise. In her state of delighted shock as they neared the bottom, she didn’t notice a rough patch in the snow until it was too late, and before she could find any way to stop herself, she was tripping and tumbling down, unable to stop until she was on even ground once again.

It wouldn’t have been as much of a problem as it turned out to be if she hadn’t taken Enjolras down with her in the process.

Éponine barely had time to yell out to Enjolras to get out of the way before she crashed into him with a yelp, taking him down with her and the two of them tumbling down the hill in a mess of tangled limbs and skis without any way of stopping until they had hit even ground. Heart pounding wildly in her chest and all the blood rushing to her head, she only really registered what had just happened as she found herself staring into Enjolras’ wide blue eyes, lying smack dab on top of him in the snow.

Elodie let out a squeal of laughter at the sight, nearly doubling over in her giggle fit at the sight of her cousin and his supposed girlfriend lying in the snow, having taken quite a fall. Too mortified to move, Éponine just lay there on top of Enjolras, brown eyes wide, apologetic.

After several dreadful moments of excruciating silence, Enjolras laughed, and Éponine thought a huge weight had just been lifted off her shoulders.

“Hi,” he murmured.

Éponine bowed her head. “Sorry.”

“No need to be,” Enjolras told her softly, reaching up to brush some hair out of her eyes before he leaned up to press his lips to hers. Éponine froze for a few moments before she remembered that oh, right, they were still pretending, with Elodie around, so she kissed him back, conveniently tuning out Elodie’s reaction.

“Ewww!” she exclaimed in mock disgust, as was expected of a nine-year-old girl. “Gabe, that’s nasty!”

Enjolras simply laughed and brushed off her words with a dismissive wave of his hand, still keeping his lips firmly planted on Éponine’s, his heart-rate rising when she giggled into the kiss. He liked the way her lips felt against his—warm, slightly chapped, tasting of chocolate and peppermint, and with the fiery, passionate way she kissed him like every time would be their last, he could let himself believe for a moment, just one moment, that this wasn’t fake.

“Well, what’s going on here?” The sound of Armand’s teasing voice led to them immediately breaking apart, Enjolras’ cheeks burning as he and Éponine looked at Armand, who had a shit-eating grin upon his face.

“Éponine tripped and fell onto Gabe,” Elodie dutifully recounted for her father, a smile on her little scrunched-up face. “And Gabe just started smooching her, because he’s gross.”

Armand let out a hearty laugh, walking over to help Éponine to her feet before doing the same with Enjolras. “Good thing Eddie isn’t around to see, right?” he told Enjolras as he pulled up his fiercely blushing nephew to his feet. “He would have had a field day.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me,” Enjolras muttered, blushing to the roots of his hair as Éponine giggled.

Armand simply smiled and patted Enjolras on the back. “We’re going to be having lunch together in about an hour, all right?” he told Enjolras and Éponine. “Meet us back at the house in forty-five minutes or so, we’ll go to the canteen for lunch afterwards.”

Éponine grinned and exaggerated a salute. “Gotcha.”

Armand grinned even more, pretending to tip an invisible hat at her before he told them, “Well, I’m going to go find Eddie and your parents now, Gabriel. They went to the red slope, didn’t they?”

Enjolras nodded in confirmation, pointing in the direction where they had disappeared to earlier. “Yes, they went just over there.”

“Okay, then!” Armand briskly walked off, soon followed by Elodie, and Enjolras wrapped his arm tight around Éponine’s shoulders once they had both taken off their helmets. He was unable to keep the goofy grin off his face as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, grinning into her sweet-smelling hair.

“That was great,” he mumbled to her. “You did great. Thank you so much, ’Ponine.” After a pause, he told her under his breath, “My uncle loves you, and the twins adore you. Thank you, Éponine.”

Éponine looked up at him and smiled, but it wasn’t quite genuine on her part, never really reaching her eyes. Having Agathe and Sébastien absolutely adore her was bad enough already; how the hell was she going to handle having to stage a breakup after Enjolras’ little twin cousins, at this rate, inevitably grew attached?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> european ski area terminology:
> 
> \- green (france, scandinavia, spain) - very easy, and gentle slope   
>  \- blue - easy slope, not very steep (usually)   
>  \- red - intermediate slope, for more confident skiers and snowboarders   
>  \- black - advanced slope, steepest slopes, for good skiers and snowboarders only
> 
> taken from [this website](http://www.mechanicsofsport.com/terminology.html).


	6. 06.

Enjolras woke up early in the wee hours of the morning five days before Christmas rolled around, and he found that he was alone in bed, Éponine nowhere to be seen. Rolling over and blinking in bewilderment, squinting at the moonlight coming into the room through the skylight above the bed, he propped himself up against the headboard, wondering where the hell she was. He vaguely recalled how she had bought herself a bikini at the store at his uncle’s ski resort a couple of days ago for swimming and hot tub purposes, so before he could fully realise what he was doing, he scooted over and swung his feet off the side of the bed, sliding off.

Grabbing his coat off the hook by the door and draping it over the fuzzy pyjama pants and white undershirt that he had put on prior to going to bed instead of the silk pyjamas provided for him in the closet, Enjolras slipped his feet into the furry red monster claw slippers Eddie and Elodie had gifted him with last Christmas and trudged out into the hallway, keeping as quiet as he could so not to disturb his sleeping parents and the help while making his way out back. The night was freezing, and he shivered once he had stepped out of the cabin before he stopped short at the sound of a voice. Éponine’s voice.

He retreated to behind a couple of pine trees, keeping himself hidden as he listened to her talking. Why on earth would she be in the hot tub talking to herself, though?

Wait—there was another voice. Smaller, but definitely there. Upon listening closer, he deduced that it was Grantaire, realising that she was engaged in a Skype call or something along those lines with him. If his calculations were correct, it would be about eight at night in Florida right now.

He wondered if he should keep on eavesdropping, torn between leaving and staying there to listen in on their conversation.

 _“You could’ve come to Disney World with us,”_ he heard Grantaire’s voice saying through the call, rather garbled by the flimsy connection. _“But you’re there with Enjy now.”_

“A deal is a deal, R,” Éponine replied tiredly, and through the pine needles, Enjolras could glimpse her rubbing her temple. “And he’s my best friend, besides you. I thought we were just going to do this fake relationship shit and get it done and over with, but I’m just—I’m so fucking confused now, R, I don’t know what to do.”

Enjolras froze at her words, breath catching in his throat at the frustration in Éponine’s voice. Standing stock still, he listened as she muttered, barely audible, “I can’t tell what’s fake and what’s not anymore, Grantaire. I don’t know how I can continue this fake relationship when the lines between real and not real are so fucking blurred already.”

Enjolras held his breath as he waited for one of them to speak again, hearing Grantaire say, _“Do you think you might have real feelings for him?”_

He heard Éponine groan, splashing the water as she grumbled in reply, “Honestly, at this point, I don’t know _anything_ anymore. We’re going to have to fake a breakup eventually, won’t we? Isn’t that how all fake relationships are supposed to end? I don’t want to break his parents’ hearts; they’re so sweet and kind to me, and I don’t want to completely destroy their trust like that. Not to mention his little twin cousins too—they came by the other day, going on and on about how they had bought me Christmas presents, and fuck, those kids are angels. I don’t know how I’ll handle having to lie to them even more than I already am. I’m so fucking confused, R, I don’t know what to believe anymore.” She let out a dispirited sigh and splashed the water again, mumbling, “And none of this would have happened if I’d just gone with you guys to Orlando.”

There was a brief stretch of silence before Grantaire spoke, saying, _“Éponine, my love, my light, maybe you should think about why you went with Enj to be his fake girlfriend instead of with us to Disney. There must have been a reason why you chose that over going with us, right? I mean, it’s fucking Disney World. Full offence, you’re an idiot for passing up on that. Maybe, like I said, you chose to go with him because you’re starting to have real feelings for him.”_

Éponine sighed again, rubbing her temple. “I don’t have feelings for Gabriel, R,” she muttered, exhaustion and exasperation clear in her voice.

Enjolras’ heart plummeted into his stomach.

 _“You keep telling yourself that. I just thought I should remind you that denial isn’t just a river in Egypt,”_ Grantaire replied matter-of-factly.

Éponine let out a low laugh. “Shut up. I’m not in denial. I’m just upset about how I’ll have to let Agathe and Sébastien and Armand and the twins down eventually.”

 _“Mhmm. Sure, let’s go with that.”_ Grantaire still sounded unconvinced on the other end, but from what Enjolras could tell, he didn’t press further.

Enjolras stood there for a while, rooted to the spot as he tried to process the conversation (argument?) he had just overheard, guilt overtaking him for staying there and eavesdropping on something that was clearly never meant for his ears. Silently, he slipped away, managing to go back into the house unnoticed; he took his time in walking back to the bedroom, wondering what on earth Éponine was going on about.

He was well into the process of overthinking everything he had just heard by the time he was lying in bed, blankets pulled up to his chest as he stared up at the moon amongst the misty clouds through the skylight. It wasn’t long until snow began drifting down, piling up on the balcony as frost traced patterns into the glass, and as he anticipated, the sound of Éponine’s light, quick footsteps, ever so faint, slowly increased in volume, signalling that she was approaching the bedroom door. Quickly, Enjolras curled up in the sheets and feigned sleep, barely managing to keep himself from wincing at the sound of the creak of the opening door.

Silence.

He listened as she quietly padded across the room to her suitcase, soon disappearing into the bathroom to change out of her bikini and back into her pyjamas. He tensed up upon hearing the bathroom door open and close again, squeezing his eyes shut as Éponine climbed into bed with him, seeming to hesitate for a while.

Enjolras’ heart nearly stopped when he heard the faint sound of lips against skin seconds before he felt two soft fingers gently brush his cheek, tender, affectionate.

“Good night, Gabriel,” he heard Éponine murmur before she settled into bed beside him, curling into herself and turning away from him, her breathing pattern slowly falling into a steady rhythm as she succumbed to the night.

Enjolras was left lying there, wide awake, wondering what the fuck had just happened.

* * *

Golden sunlight bathed the room through the frost-patterned windows by the time Éponine woke up, blinking at the light flooding the room. A quick peek at the alarm clock on the nightstand told her that it was around eight in the morning, and she glanced over at Enjolras, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly in a subconscious smile at the sight of him asleep, lying on his back with his head on a pillow, lolled to the side. As she sat up, back against the headboard, she remembered how they didn’t really have any plans set in stone for the day, and as she looked over and out the windows, her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of how much it had snowed last night.

Éponine looked over at Enjolras once again and smiled to herself, hopeful. Maybe they could go out and have some good old-fashioned fun in the snow.

She reflected on the conversation she had had with Grantaire via Skype last night in the hot tub—was she really in denial about possibly feeling things for Enjolras, real things, or was Grantaire just teasing her and putting words in her mouth again? As she mulled things over, she recalled the tone of voice in which Grantaire had spoken to her last night—if he had simply been teasing, he wouldn’t have sounded so serious about it, concern for her having laced his tone in spades. The state of being earnest was wildly uncharacteristic when it came to Grantaire, so maybe he really was on to something.

Or maybe Éponine was just looking too much into this again.

She turned her head and gazed at Enjolras, watching as he peacefully slept and marvelling at how much younger he looked in his sleep—tranquil, angelic. His golden curls were adorably mussed up, contrasting sharply against the burgundy colour of the silk pillows, and his long lashes fluttered as he slept, chest rising and falling with steady breaths. Éponine caught herself smiling as she kept her gaze fixed on him, breath catching in her throat at how peaceful he looked.

It was only now did she really let herself observe his appearance, noting just how handsome he really was, with his strong jaw and full lips as well as his long lashes and shapely eyebrows. She reached out to lightly run her thumb over the cleft in his chin, recalling how he used to be so self-conscious about it in their first couple of years of college and how she had initially made fun of him for said insecurity, before they became friends. Really, the cleft in his chin went along quite nicely with his defined jaw, though she would probably never tell him that to his face.

Éponine’s hand drifted upwards to lightly card her fingers through his hair before she narrowly stopped herself. What the fuck was she doing?

Every muscle in her body went taut when he stirred, blue eyes blinking open as his hand went up to his mouth to stifle an oncoming yawn. As his vision focused, his gaze landed on Éponine, noticing how she was sitting there gazing down at him with an unreadable expression upon her face, and his lips stretched out into a sleepy little smile despite himself.

“Good morning, ’Ponine,” Enjolras murmured softly.

Éponine mustered a smile. “Morning, Gabe.”

Intuitively, Enjolras reached for her hand, taking it in his and giving it a little squeeze. Her cheeks flushed pink at the gesture and she broke eye contact, looking out the window once again and avoiding his gaze.

“It snowed a lot last night,” she commented as he sat up beside her.

Enjolras nodded. “Yes, it did.”

A hush fell over the room, awkward silence blanketing them, suffocating, and seven minutes had passed by the time Éponine broke the silence. “Anything on the schedule for today, chief?”

Enjolras chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so. My mother told me last night that we can just kick back today and relax.”

Éponine grinned, grabbing the remote off the nightstand and pointing it at the TV mounted on the wall across the room. “Netflix binge?”

Enjolras slid downwards so he’d be in a half-lying, half-sitting position, pillows underneath his back and his head still against the headboard as he nodded. “If not Netflix, then Hulu would do. Depends on what it is you want to watch.”

“What do _you_ want to watch?” Éponine asked, turning her head to look at him expectantly.

Enjolras shrugged. “Whatever you choose is fine by me. Anything goes.”

Éponine raised her eyebrows but decided not to press further. “Okay, then. If you say so.”

Skimming the shows and movies available on Netflix before moving on to Hulu, she eventually decided on _The Handmaid’s Tale_ , having watched the first couple of episodes or so in the past few months. When Enjolras winced beside her, she turned to look at him, brow creased in concern. “Too dark?”

He bit his lip but shrugged anyway. “If you want to, go ahead and watch it, I don’t mind. It _is_ a little too dark for me, though, personally. So. Yes. You can keep watching it though, I suppose I’ll just go back to sleep if you do.”

“All right, then.” She went right ahead, curling up in the blanket as she started the third episode.

It was peaceful for a while then—Enjolras lying asleep beside Éponine as she made her way through _The Handmaid’s Tale_ , sunlight streaming in through the glass in the ceiling and windows and snow piling up outside, glittering and white. It felt nice just to sit there and relax, watching a TV show way out of her comfort zone, while snow drifted down outdoors and coated the hills and forests with a blanket of pure white fluff; Éponine had just finished episode five at around eleven that morning when she heard an incessant knocking at the door.

Furrowing her brow, she turned to see if Enjolras had heard, but no—he was still fast asleep. Quickly, silently, Éponine turned off the TV and slid off the bed to go open the door, finding Eddie and Elodie standing there, beaming up at her, all bundled up in boots, bobble hats, scarves, and thick ski coats with fur-lined hoods, snowflakes beginning to melt into their hair and their clothes.

Pleasantly surprised, Éponine couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the twins. “What are you doing here?” she whispered to them, giggling slightly.

“Why are you whispering?” Eddie loudly whispered back. Elodie elbowed him in the side.

“Gabriel is still asleep,” Éponine told them in a low voice, grinning. “Why don’t you two go in and wake him up? But take off your shoes before coming in, please.”

She hadn’t thought it was possible for their enormous smiles to grow even wider, but they did, and immediately, they kicked off their boots and left them aside in the corridor before bolting through the doorway and scrambling onto the bed to jump up on Enjolras and shake him awake. Eddie went to straddle his cousin’s stomach, bouncing up and down, while Elodie grabbed his arm and frantically shook him awake; Éponine threw her head back and cackled at the sight of how Enjolras woke up immediately, wheezing at how the air was knocked out of his lungs by Eddie sitting right on top of him and squeezing the breath out of him.

“What the hell?” he exclaimed, shoving Eddie off his stomach and sitting up, gasping for air as his cousins burst into fits of hysterical giggles, falling over on the bed and clutching their stomachs in fruitless attempts to contain their laughter.

“Snow day!” Elodie finally managed to say in between giggles. “Let’s go outside and play!”

The two children were still bouncing up and down on the bed when Enjolras looked over at a laughing Éponine to shoot her a look that just screamed for help; she went over to him and sat down at the edge of the bed, reaching up to cup his jaw in her small hand and lean in to press her lips to his in a chaste kiss, smiling against his lips when Eddie audibly gagged at the sight as Elodie started giggling even harder. Enjolras’ cheeks grew warm, though he didn’t hesitate to kiss Éponine back, having made the decision to salvage as many moments like this as he can before things inevitably came to an end.

“Gabe’s gross,” Eddie commented under his breath, pulling a face.

“He’s in _love_ , Edmond,” Elodie stage-whispered conspiratorially in reply.

It brought even more colour into Enjolras’ cheeks as he and Éponine finally broke apart; she giggled at the sight of Enjolras’ reddened face, reaching up to ruffle his curls and only succeeding in making him blush even harder. It evoked an odd sort of fluttering in her chest for reasons she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Eddie bounced up and down impatiently on the bed, nagging, “Come _on_ , Gabe, let’s go play!”

Enjolras’ head turned towards the window to see just how much it had snowed since he went back to sleep; he had no doubt the soft blanket of white was at least ankle deep at this point. He turned back to look at the wide-eyed, near-identical pleading looks in Eddie and Elodie’s eyes, bottom lip jutting out as they stared him down. He rolled his eyes and smiled, letting out a breathy little chuckle as he nodded. It couldn’t hurt to indulge them every once in a while.

“All right, let’s go play in the snow,” he relented, smiling at the way Eddie and Elodie burst into cheers.

“Yay!” They immediately made to slide off the bed to race each other to the door, sliding across the hardwood floor in their fuzzy socks and out into the corridor.

“Wait for us downstairs!” Éponine called out, barely managing to do so, she was laughing so hard from how much she adored the twins.

Still laughing, she turned back to Enjolras, the corners of her closed eyes crinkling from how big her smile was as she shook her head, her laughter steadily dwindling down. “Fuck, those kids will be the death of me,” she remarked, breathless, as her eyes opened again to gaze straight into Enjolras’. “I love them so much.”

She looked down into her lap then, still laughing softly to herself, missing the soft look in Enjolras’ eyes as he gazed at her with an unreadable look on his face.

After a while, she sighed and got up, stretching out her arms and arching her back. “We should probably go change.”

Enjolras bit his lip and nodded, going to do as she had suggested.

It wasn’t long before they were downstairs in the foyer, having just barely finished pulling on their boots before Eddie and Elodie were dragging them outside, chattering nineteen to the dozen about snowball fights and snowmen and snow forts and God only knew what else. Elodie had attached herself to Éponine, the nine-year-old maintaining a firm grip on the young woman’s gloved hand as she dragged her out into the snow, ankle deep in the slush. It seemed that Armand had brought the twins over earlier that morning; Éponine had caught a glimpse of him in the living room having coffee with Sébastien and Agathe shortly before Eddie and Elodie dragged her and Enjolras away. Snow was still drifting down, lazily floating through the air, and it was almost like something out of a dream, sun in her eyes and snow in her hair.

Being nine years old and undoubtedly raised on Disney movies, of course Elodie started singing “Do You Want to Build a Snowman” at the top of her lungs as she and Eddie began rolling snowballs along the ground, getting bigger and bigger by the moment until they had made a snowball they deemed large enough for a snowman, continuing on to the next one. Éponine stood there with Enjolras, grinning at the sight as she shook the snow off her brown newsboy cap, spreading her arms out and spinning around in the snow, face turned towards the heavens as her laughter rang out through the air.

Enjolras gazed at her thoughtfully, rather unaware of how he had a little smile on his face as he did so, before he was quickly snapped out of it by a snowball, courtesy of Eddie, hitting him square in the face. Wrinkling his nose, Enjolras wiped the remaining snow off his face as Eddie howled with laughter at the look on his cousin’s face, though his laughter quickly died down when Enjolras began to pack a snowball of his own, the laughter in his wide green eyes quickly being replaced by what a look that could only be interpreted as “oh, shit”.

Pretty soon, Enjolras and Eddie were hurling snowballs back and forth at each other, Elodie screaming angrily and shielding her snowman as best as she could to keep it from toppling over, caught in the crossfire of the escalating snowball fight. Éponine hastened over to Elodie’s side, leaning down to whisper in the girl’s ear.

“How about we give them a taste of their own medicine?” she whispered furtively to Elodie. It took the girl a total of five seconds before she enthusiastically nodded in agreement.

Quickly, stealthily, they managed to slip off to the side unnoticed, Enjolras and Eddie too caught up in their impromptu snowball fight to pay any attention to how Éponine and Elodie slipped away together, beginning to stock up on ammo, packing snowballs and storing them behind the snowman where neither Enjolras nor Eddie would be able to see.

“So what do we do with all these now?” Elodie questioned once they had finished packing a sufficient amount of snowballs, looking up at Éponine expectantly.

Éponine grinned wickedly. “Now we chuck these bad boys at them.”

Without a moment of hesitation, she reached down to grab a snowball, wasting no time in hurling it towards Enjolras and hitting him in the cheek. Shocked at the unexpected attack, he turned to see Éponine nearly dying of laughter at the look on his face, allowing Eddie to pelt him with even more snowballs, almost succeeding in knocking him over. Elodie burst into fits of giggles as she started tossing snowballs in her brother’s direction, sometimes hitting, more often missing; it wasn’t long before Éponine and Elodie teamed up against Enjolras and Eddie, countless snowballs flying through the air as their joyous shouts of laughter and indignation echoed all throughout the hills.

Elodie stole away for a bit to build a snow-fort for her and Éponine, leaving Éponine to defend themselves against a merciless Eddie, Enjolras having also taken time off to pack more snowballs to provide him and Eddie with ammo. Éponine let out a shriek of laughter when Eddie knocked her cap off with a well-angled strike, reaching down to pack a snowball of her own as she shouted, “You’ll pay for that, you little gremlin!”

She dove behind the snow-fort once Elodie called out that it was finished, the pair continuing to attack Enjolras and Eddie with snowballs, refusing to stop until they admitted defeat. Eddie eventually just ran off to sprint to the top of the hill, yelling for Elodie to race him; it didn’t take long for the twins to leave Enjolras and Éponine in the dust, standing at the bottom of the hill in the aftermath of their battle.

Éponine let out a breathless laugh. “God, I don’t think I’ve laughed that much in months.”

She turned her head to look up at Enjolras, surprised to find that he had already been gazing at her, a soft little smile on his face and his head slightly tilted to the side, and her cheeks grew warm as their eyes met; she thought his eyes might have flicked to her lips for the briefest of moments. “What is it?” she whispered, growing flustered.

“Nothing.” Enjolras broke eye contact to look down at his boots, biting his lip to stifle his affectionate smile. “It’s just nice seeing you having so much fun.”

Éponine socked him in the arm. “Oh, shut up.”

“Éponine!” they heard Elodie holler from the top of the hill, gesturing frantically for her to come over as Eddie waved his arms about in the air, yelling. Laughing, Éponine jogged up the hill to them, finding that Eddie had fallen back against the snow and staring up at the heavens above, blue as far as the eye could see.

“What is it?” she questioned, looking down at Elodie.

“Let’s go sledding,” Elodie suggested brightly, jumping up and down. “We brought our toboggan and Eddie’s sled with us, I think they’re inside.”

Eddie sat bolt upright, fixing his gaze on Enjolras at the bottom of the hill. “Gabe, go fetch us our sleds!” he commanded, pointing in the direction of the log cabin.

Enjolras laughed, rolling his eyes hard as he wryly exaggerated a salute. “Of course, Your Highness.”

Eddie, Elodie, and Éponine watched as Enjolras trudged off through the snow and disappeared into the house, the twins bursting into a fit of giggles and falling over onto the snow. Éponine grinned, laughing as she sat there with her legs outstretched, the palms of her gloved hands planted firmly behind her against the fluffy white blanket of snow.

“So how did you meet Gabe, Éponine?” Eddie fixed Éponine with a scrutinising gaze, narrowing his eyes as he looked at her with that curious look she so often saw in children’s faces when they were trying to figure someone out.

Éponine smiled and reached to ruffle his wavy hair. “We met in our first year of university,” she replied matter-of-factly. “I was eighteen, he was almost nineteen. I hated him at first, honestly. We didn’t get along, like, at all.”

Elodie’s hazel eyes widened. “ _Really?_ But you two are so in love now!”

“Which is gross,” Eddie was unable to resist adding, earning himself an elbow to the ribs courtesy of his sister.

Éponine brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. “People change over time, Elodie. We eventually bonded and became the best of friends and now we’ve known each other for about seven years and we’re together.” She felt a strange ache in her chest when saying those last few words, a fleeting thought of how she longed for it to be true crossing her mind for the briefest of moments before she caught herself.

A starry-eyed Elodie gazed at Éponine, absolutely enthralled as she asked, “Are you and Gabe going to get _married_?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down!” Éponine fell onto her back in the snow, rolling onto her side and curling into her side as she clutched her stomach, she was laughing so hard. Honestly, if she hadn’t found it all so hilarious, she probably would have begun to overthink what this meant, if Elodie was starting to innocently wonder if Éponine and Enjolras were going to get married one day. That had to mean they were doing something right. Everything so far was going well.

Maybe too well.

Before she could get her laughter under control long enough to properly respond to Elodie’s innocuous question, Enjolras was reappearing before their eyes, dragging a long wooden toboggan and a little steel runner sled behind him as he trudged up the hill amongst the snow. Éponine grinned and got to her feet, running down to meet him halfway and grab the steel runner to drag up the hill to grant him less of a burden. As she jogged up to Eddie and Elodie, she missed the way Enjolras smiled fondly at her, at how easily she interacted with his cousins, oblivious to the way his blue eyes softened as he caught up to them.

Eddie wasted no time into hopping onto his sled, lying on his stomach and pushing himself forward with his feet dangling off the edge, hollering as he slid down the hill, whooping all the while. Éponine laughed as she watched the boy eventually come to a stop at the foot of the hill, jumping up and waving up at them, yelling out in delight.

“Éponine! Come on, sit behind me!” Elodie called out, already seated on her toboggan and gesturing for Éponine to come over. Éponine did as she was told, going to sit behind Elodie and gripping the edges of the toboggan as she braced herself for what was to happen.

“Gabe, can you push us down?” Elodie called, looking up at her cousin expectantly.

Enjolras chuckled and nodded, going over to them. “All right.”

All it took was a single push, and they were flying.

Elodie squealed in delight as they went speeding down the hill, Éponine hollering out at the swooping feeling in her stomach, her words lost to the wind. She grabbed onto her cap to keep it from flying off as they sped down the hill, her other hand gripping the wood as tightly as she possibly could, screaming and laughing as they went flying, the wind rushing against their faces. Without warning, Elodie jumped off once they reached the bottom of the hill, landing in the cushion of snow and giggling madly at the look on Éponine’s face, who, after a few frantic moments of consideration, decided to follow the nine-year-old’s lead and jump off too.

She landed face first into the snow and rolled over onto her back, laughter overtaking her as she curled into herself, holding her stomach in a feeble attempt to contain her giggles. God, this was bliss. She caught herself wondering what life would be like if this were to be what she did for the holidays for the rest of her life.

Before she could realise it, Enjolras had jogged down the hill to her, crouching down beside her with a fond little smile on his face. “You okay?” he asked softly, taking her hand in his and squeezing it.

Éponine smiled and nodded, a faint pink blush rising to her cheeks. “Never been better.”

Damn, what she wouldn’t give for this to be her reality.

She silently scolded herself. She refused to do this to herself, to get her heart broken again. This was all going to end at one point, and she would just have to find a way to be okay with that.

It wasn’t long before Armand was running out to call the twins back inside for lunch; once the twins had gone back inside, he turned to Éponine and Enjolras. “You two coming?”

“We think we’ll stay out here for a little bit more,” Enjolras replied. “Thank you, Uncle.”

Armand nodded and went back inside, leaving Éponine and Enjolras alone in the snow.

It had begun to snow again, spots of white dotting Éponine’s dark hair and her cap, and she fell into the snow, sighing at the feeling as she lay sprawled on her back. Absent-mindedly, she began to make a snow angel, Enjolras going to lie beside her and do the same, arms and legs outstretched in the pearly-white snow. They stayed like that for a while, basking in each other’s comfortable silence and lying in the snow, staring up at the azure skies.

“Where were you last night?” Enjolras asked, seemingly out of nowhere, breaking the silence.

“What?” Éponine turned her head to look at him, brow furrowed in puzzlement.

“I woke up at two in the morning,” Enjolras confessed, rather sheepish. “I suppose I needed to use the bathroom. You weren’t there.”

Éponine bit her lip, cheeks flushing pink. There was no way she could tell him that she had been in the hot tub out back, engaged in a Skype call with Grantaire and whining about her increasing confusion when it came to her feelings. “I—I was in the hot tub,” she told Enjolras, shrugging in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “I just needed to unwind.”

 _At two in the morning?_ Enjolras thought, but didn’t say. “Oh. All right, then.”

He said nothing else on the matter, turning his head to gaze back up at the heavens as snow drifted down all around them, blanketing the hills in a cushion of white, creating a picturesque sight, looking like something right out of a postcard. Éponine sighed, content to lie there beside Enjolras for the rest of the day and just forget the world, and she turned onto her side, murmuring, “Thanks. You know, for bringing me along.”

Enjolras turned to look at her and mustered a small smile. “Don’t give me too much credit. You did have to sacrifice a trip to Disney World.”

Éponine laughed and looked down, cheeks flushing pink, though whether that was a result of the cold or something else, Enjolras didn’t know. “Still,” she mumbled, biting her lip.

Honestly, she’d much rather be spending time here with Enjolras than be at Disney or anywhere else in the world with someone else at that very moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i'm not dead!! life's just been more of a bitch than usual lately, so please bear with me. let me know what you think :D


	7. 07.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey i'm not dead!! just super busy. i'll hopefully be completely back in action by the time finals end, do pray for me that i'll make it out alive.

* * *

_“Face it, Enj—you’ve got it bad.”_

Enjolras sighed and rubbed his temple, resting his head on his elbow at the edge of the hot tub as he looked at Courfeyrac on his phone screen, propped up with a PopSockets grip, a gift from none other than the man Enjolras was currently talking to right now. It was midnight, and it seemed like Enjolras had decided to take a page out of Éponine’s book and get up at ungodly hours in the night to vent to a friend via Skype. When did they start thinking alike?

“I don’t, Courf,” Enjolras muttered, running his fingers through his damp hair. “I really, really don’t.”

 _“Um, it sounds like you really, really do,”_ Courfeyrac contradicted. _“I mean, I’ve seen the way you look at her when you think nobody else is looking. It’s been going on for a few months now.”_

“I don’t look at her like anything.” Perplexity crossing his face, Enjolras’ brow creased as he stared at Courfeyrac, incredulous. “What the hell are you talking about?”

 _“I’m saying that you look at her like she hung the fucking moon and stars, that’s what,”_ Courfeyrac told him frankly, rolling his eyes as he rearranged his stupid fedora atop his chocolate-brown curls. _“Like,_ damn _. I’ve never seen anyone look so enamoured, and I’ve known Marius for a long-ass time.”_

“What? No, I don’t.” Enjolras was quick to deny Courfeyrac’s absolutely inane assumptions, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. “You know I don’t develop feelings for people easily.”

 _“I know,”_ Courfeyrac said. _“That’s why the only person you’ve ever had a big fat crush on before Éponine is Feuilly.”_

“I do _not_ have a ‘big fat crush’ on ’Ponine!” Enjolras denied once again, almost not realising how he had raised his voice until Courfeyrac gave him a look, wide-eyed, his eyebrows raised. Composing himself, Enjolras tried again, saying much more quietly, “I don’t, Courfeyrac. I just—I can’t.”

 _“Why not?”_ Courfeyrac’s tone of voice suddenly took a turn for concern, his brow furrowing in slight apprehension at Enjolras’ unexpected outburst, eyeing the way a dejected look crept into Enjolras’ blue eyes as he averted his gaze.

“For one thing, she is definitely not interested,” Enjolras said, biting his lip and letting out a sigh through his teeth. “So why bother pursuing anything real?”

 _“How are you so sure she’s not interested?”_ Exasperation was beginning to make its way into Courfeyrac’s tone of voice again, much to Enjolras’ surprise. _“Have you actually_ asked _her?”_

Enjolras let out a snort. “Yes, _that’s_ going to make for an interesting conversation. ‘Hey, ’Ponine, I just want to make sure—is this all really just pretend or is there something more?’”

Courfeyrac let out a little noise of aggravation. _“Okay, fine, I guess that’s not the best approach to it. But seriously? How are you so sure?”_

A head of curly auburn hair came into view just then, Azelma making an appearance; Éponine had decided to give her Disney World ticket to her sister, resulting in Azelma tagging along on the winter trip to Florida. Enjolras hadn’t really given much notice to Courfeyrac’s surroundings before, only now noticing that he appeared to be sitting in the grass, presumably waiting for fireworks.

 _“Who are you talking to?”_ Azelma asked curiously, seeing Enjolras on Courfeyrac’s phone screen and proceeding to flash him a little grin. _“Oh, hi, Éponine’s fake boyfriend.”_

Enjolras rolled his eyes, a tiny smile playing at his lips. “Hello, Azelma.”

 _“Enjy here’s having a crisis over whether or not Éponine returns his feelings for her,”_ Courfeyrac informed Azelma bluntly, conveniently ignoring the look of protest on Enjolras’ face.

“I do not have feelings for her!” he denied yet again, growing increasingly disgruntled by Courfeyrac’s insistence that he was really just repressing his alleged feelings for Éponine.

Azelma let out a little hum, indecipherable. _“Well, that’s just too bad, because_ she _definitely has feelings for_ you _.”_

Enjolras’ heart skipped a few beats. Maybe more than just a few. “What are you talking about?”

 _“Aw, look, Enjy’s blushing.”_ Courfeyrac smirked at the  sight, mentally patting himself on the back for having made the _brilliant_ decision to bring in reinforcements in the form of Azelma to get Enjolras to finally spit it out.

 _“She’s, like, really into you, Enjolras,”_ Azelma told him, wrapping her coat tighter around herself. Huh. Enjolras hadn’t thought Florida might be so cold. _“I mean, she’s pretty low-key about it, but the way her eyes light up whenever someone mentions you, even in passing… She’s smitten.”_

Enjolras’ breath caught in his throat. “Is she, now?”

Azelma shrugged. _“I mean, that’s just from what I’ve observed,”_ she said. _“Maybe I’m just reaching.”_

Enjolras deflated at these words, looking down and biting his lip. “She probably doesn’t.”

Azelma clicked her tongue. _“Well, fine, if you think that’s the case, then go with that. But_ you _, dear Enjolras, are in love with my sister.”_

“I am _not_ in love with her.” Even with everything that had happened, he was still in denial, refusing to let himself admit it out loud.

 _“Oh, yes, you are,”_ Courfeyrac informed him. _“You’re totally fucked, mate. You’re in love.”_

Enjolras snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

 _“We could say the same thing to you,”_ Azelma pointed out wryly.

“I’m not in love with her,” Enjolras repeated, though the slight hesitation in his voice betrayed uncertainty. “You know I can’t just be in love with just anyone. They would have to be someone who really gets me, who understands me. Someone I trust completely. It needs to be someone whose company I truly enjoy. Someone clever and beautiful and special, someone who can be my best friend—” Enjolras stopped short, cutting himself off as his blue eyes widened.

Courfeyrac had a shit-eating grin on his face as Azelma gave an enormous roll of her eyes. _“Are you done?”_ she questioned drolly.

Enjolras brought his hand up to his mouth to cover it. “Oh, God.”

 _“So I take it you also realised you just described Éponine,”_ Courfeyrac said overly cheerfully, grinning at Enjolras through the screen. _“You’ve got it bad, chief.”_

Enjolras bit his lip. Well. Shit.

“I do, don’t I?” he murmured, at last resigned to fate.

 _“Do you need us to spell it out for you?”_ Azelma asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Enjolras frowned to himself, letting out a sigh and muttering, “Well, I suppose I’ll just need to find a way to get over it, since she doesn’t return my feelings.”

 _“Again, how the hell are you so sure?”_ Courfeyrac asked.

“You didn’t hear her,” Enjolras mumbled, averting his gaze. “She was in the hot tub a few nights ago, talking to Grantaire, rather like how I’m talking to you two right now. Where is he?”

 _“He’s with Gav up front, waiting for the fireworks,”_ Azelma replied. _“He thinks Ep’s in denial as well.”_

“No, she couldn’t be.” Enjolras was resolute; there was no way in hell Éponine could ever possibly return his feelings, and he would just have to live with that. Besides, it wasn’t like she ever made any indication of returning his feelings, especially with how she often reminded him that they didn’t have to pretend when nobody was around and he still found some way to be physically close to her. That was a surefire sign she didn’t feel anything other than platonic feelings towards him.

 _“Fine, suit yourself,”_ Azelma said, shrugging. _“Keep thinking that way. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”_

She got up and left, going out of sight, presumably to go join Grantaire and Gavroche up front and leaving Courfeyrac alone. He turned to the camera, clicking his tongue.

 _“Damn, chief,”_ he murmured. _“I never thought I’d ever see you so head over heels.”_

Enjolras’ cheeks grew warm. “Yes, well, it’s probably not going to last,” he replied. “She doesn’t feel the same way.” He swallowed, growing sheepish as he mumbled, “I may have accidentally overheard her conversation with Grantaire a few nights ago.”

Courfeyrac fell silent for a few moments, contemplative. _“What did you hear?”_ he asked carefully after a while. _“Like, what did she say?”_

Enjolras thought back to the conversation he’d overheard, biting his lip as shame pooled in the pit of his stomach at the memory of eavesdropping on her. “Well, she flat-out said that she doesn’t have feelings for me. The only reason she’s feeling conflicted at all is because we’ll have to let my parents and my uncle and my cousins down eventually,” he replied at last.

Courfeyrac pursed his lips. If what Enjolras was saying was true about Éponine seemingly not returning his feelings, then there was no use in trying to convince him otherwise.

Enjolras sighed, running his fingers through his damp hair. “I suppose I’ll hang up now.”

 _“Yeah,”_ Courfeyrac agreed rather absently. _“I’ll talk to you later, Enj. Love you.”_

The screen went black in a matter of seconds.

Enjolras set his phone aside and turned back around, sighing as he slid down further into the hot tub, until only his head was above the bubbling water, feeling the jets against his skin. God, he was so fucked. He’d never been one to easily get over someone; it had taken him a year and a half to get over Feuilly alone.

He bit his lip and sighed, long-winded and deep. Well, it looked like he would just have to savour the moments he did get to have with Éponine. Tuck them away and cherish them forever.

Maybe one day, in the distant future, he would finally stop thinking about what might have been.

* * *

Éponine awoke on Christmas Eve wrapped up in Enjolras’ arms, him spooning her from behind with his muscular arms wrapped tight around her midriff. Her heart skipped a beat at the feeling of his face buried in her shoulder, his steady breathing in sync with hers, and she closed her eyes once again, wanting to savour this moment, if just for a few seconds more.

After a while, she shifted, turning over so she would be facing him and instinctively reaching up to brush a lock of golden hair out of his face just as he sighed, content. Long golden lashes fluttering, his bleary blue eyes slowly blinked open, soft as they found Éponine’s gaze. “Good morning,” he whispered.

Éponine mustered a little smile in response. “Morning, Gabe.”

Damn it, he was being so fucking _soft_. Leave it to the man himself to make getting over him as difficult as physically and emotionally possible.

Fuck, she _liked_ him. A _lot_. Probably a little too much.

_Fuck._

After a few more moments, Éponine broke eye contact to look away and clear her throat, having grown extremely aware of how his morning erection was rubbing up against her and sending shivers down her spine. “So it’s Christmas Eve.”

Enjolras hummed softly, reaching up to brush some stray hairs out of Éponine’s face, entirely oblivious to how her cheeks grew warm. “So it is.”

“What are we doing today?” she asked, looking back up, the breath catching in her throat when her gaze found his.

Enjolras seemed to suppress a smile as he responded, “Well, my parents seem to have gotten it in their heads that it isn’t the holidays without a proper ugly Christmas sweater party.”

Éponine groaned and buried her face in his chest. “Fuck you, you _know_ I hate those kinds of things. Everyone just ends up wearing something vaguely cute anyway, so what’s the goddamn point?”

It took everything in Enjolras to keep himself from pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of her head. “Well, that’s too bad, there’s no getting ourselves out of it.”

Éponine looked up at him, a mildly horrified look on her face as she narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Enjolras shrugged, cryptic. “You’ll see.”

They stayed like that for a little while more, Éponine’s head resting against Enjolras’ chest, before he said, “Actually, do you want to see it now?”

Éponine scrunched up her face and groaned before reluctantly nodding, sitting up and watching as Enjolras slid off the bed to jog over to his closet, disappearing into it before soon emerging wearing the ugliest fucking Christmas sweater Éponine had ever had the misfortune to lay eyes on. It was a disgusting shade of bright scarlet, the colour too bright and saturated for Éponine, with gold tinsel wrapped all around it, baubles dangling from the torso. It was easily the most hideous Christmas sweater Éponine had ever seen.

“What the fuck is _that_?” she asked incredulously, appalled.

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “It is a Christmas sweater, ’Ponine.”

Éponine snorted, unable to fight back a little smile. “I can see that, smartass. Suit yourself if you want to look like a fucking moron, I’m not touching a Christmas sweater.”

Enjolras screwed up his face, nose wrinkling. “Well, that’s too bad…”

Éponine laughed, not quite processing Enjolras’ words until he began to walk back towards the closet, which was when a look of horror found its way onto Éponine’s face. She slid off the bed and rushed up to him, asking, “What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Gabriel, what the fuck? Are you saying this came in a matching set? Jesus fuck, answer me!”

Enjolras had had his back to her up until that moment, turning around with another sweater in hand, confirming Éponine’s worst fears. It was near-identical to his, with the tinsel and the baubles, except hers was lime green, which was somehow worse than the eye-popping scarlet of Enjolras’. She looked up at him, indignant.

“I’m not putting that… _thing_ on,” Éponine informed him frankly, making no effort to disguise her loathing towards that damn sweater. “You’re awful.”

“We made a deal, ’Ponine,” Enjolras reminded her, his voice having gone soft and making the breath catch in her throat. “Please? For me?”

Her eyes found his just then, and shit. Nobody with a heart could ever resist those puppy eyes, reserved only for the most desperate of times such as this.

Éponine begrudgingly took the sweater from him, glaring at him all the while. “You owe me big time, pretty boy. Even more than you already did.”

Enjolras remained unfazed, chuckling and shaking his head. “Thank you, ’Ponine. Really.”

And then he smiled, blue eyes lighting up, and honestly, how could Éponine complain?

* * *

This party was a mistake, Éponine thought as she sat there on one of the sofas in the living room with her face frozen into a smile, maintaining a death grip on Enjolras’ hand the entire time.

Maybe they should have set some boundaries before agreeing to this whole “I need you to be my fake girlfriend for the holidays, I’ll do whatever you want for the next four months afterwards” thing.

Éponine could only muster a smile and nod along as Enjolras’ relatives and family friends approached them, chatting to him about his gorgeous girlfriend and astonished to find that he seemed as if he finally wanted to settle down with someone. “It’s about time, Gabe,” Éponine heard someone say in passing, and despite her discomfort at the sheer amount of people around, she couldn’t help but laugh at the way Enjolras blushed scarlet to the roots of his hair.

After taking a sip of her hot chocolate and giving anyone passing by a smile, Éponine snuggled closer to Enjolras, lips pursing into a pout. “A lot of these sweaters are wholly inappropriate,” she mumbled. “Like, Jesus fuck, there are kids around.”

“Says the girl swearing when there are children around,” Enjolras teased, chuckling softly when Éponine elbowed him in the ribs in retaliation.

She let out a long-winded sigh, resting her head against his shoulder. “I’ve gone way past my human interaction quota for the week from this party alone,” she grumbled. “People suck sometimes.”

Enjolras pressed his lips together, resting his head against hers. “Even me?”

“You don’t count,” Éponine muttered, her voice barely audible. That was one of the nicest things she could ever say about a person, so Enjolras wasn’t going to complain.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you later,” he told her softly, turning his head to bury his face in her hair and kiss the top of her head, heedless of how her cheeks flushed pink. “Just the two of us.”

Despite herself, Éponine smiled, reaching over to take his hand. “Promise?”

Enjolras closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her sweet-smelling shampoo, smiling into her hair. “I promise.”

Éponine drew back to look up at him just then, a giddy little smile on her face, and damn if she wasn’t going to take full advantage of the fact that they were faking a relationship and they had all these people around.

She leaned in to capture his lips with her own, reaching up to cup his jaw, rubbing her thumb along his jawline as he sighed and kissed her back, hardly able to resist a goofy smile. She had grown to like this, she realised, shivering slightly when she felt his large hand brush against her thigh and kissing him harder still, almost forgetting that there were people surrounding them. As she reached up to loop her arms around his neck, pulling him in closer as his arms snaked around her waist, she felt that she could forgive the ghastly sweater he had talked her into wearing, unable to think of anything other than the feeling of his lips on hers and how it sent fire coursing through her veins.

Their moment was soon rudely interrupted by an all-too-familiar voice shouting, “Gross!” followed by an incessant tapping on Enjolras’ shoulder, leading to him and Éponine abruptly breaking apart. He turned his head to see Eddie standing there, dressed in his oversized elf onesie with the hood drawn up, a gap-toothed grin on his face.

Enjolras rolled his eyes, scrunching up his face as he grinned at his cousin. “What is it, Eddie?”

“Papa told me to tell you and Éponine that they’re going to announce the winners soon,” Eddie informed him blithely. “So the sooner they do that, the sooner _you_ can leave—” He stuck a finger in Enjolras’ face before turning it onto Éponine “—to go be _gross_ with your _girlfriend_ somewhere else.”

Éponine buried her face in Enjolras’ shoulder to stifle her laughter as Enjolras’ face turned an impressive shade of scarlet, left rather tongue-tied while he watched Eddie skip off without awaiting a response, as was typical of a nine-year-old.

“Ugh, I can’t wait for this party to be _over_ ,” Enjolras heard Éponine mutter, her voice muffled by the coarse fabric of his sweater. Lifting her head up, her eyes found his and she smiled. “So what are we doing together once we get out of here, chief?”

Enjolras laughed under his breath and leaned in, bowing his head so his forehead would press against hers as he questioned, “Do you remember that pond I mentioned a few weeks ago? The one a few miles away from here?”

Éponine nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”

“What do you think about going skating there?” Enjolras lifted his head back up to gaze at her, awaiting her response and watching the way she bit down on her lip in contemplation. The words ‘just the two of us’ remained lingering in the air, unspoken yet heavily implied.

After some time, Éponine pursed her lips. “I hardly know how to skate.”

“I can teach you,” Enjolras was quick to assure her, reaching out to gently pat her shoulder, “just like how I taught you how to ski.”

Éponine snorted. “Oh, yes, and look at how well _that_ turned out.”

Enjolras’ cheeks reddened at the reminder, recalling all too well how she ended up tumbling down the slope and taking him down with her, resulting in a kiss in the snow with Elodie spectating.

He took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze and feeling something inside him flutter at the way her eyes seemed to light up. “I promise I won’t let you fall. Well, not accidentally.”

“What if it’s not frozen over enough?” Éponine challenged, a sparkle in her dark eyes.

Enjolras laughed. “Believe me, it’s always completely frozen over at this point in the winter. We’ll be fine.”

Éponine bowed her head and grinned to herself, giggling before looking back up and leaning in to give him a quick peck. “Okay, then, let’s go do that.”

Good God, the way his face lit up at her words could end wars.

Stealing a glance down at her feet, Enjolras grinned. “I think my mother’s old figure skates would fit you.”

Éponine raised an eyebrow. “Your mom figure skated?”

Enjolras shrugged. “She dabbled in it a little bit before I was born.”

Éponine grinned, reaching up to brush some stray golden curls out of his face as she asked coyly, “And what about you?”

Jesus, the way his face flushed red at her question was going to be the fucking death of her. “I may have taken part in ice dance for about a year when I was eight.”

“Aww,” Éponine cooed, imagine little baby eight-year-old Gabriel Enjolras making his way around the ice with an ice dance partner. “Didn’t you do ballroom dance as a kid, too?”

Enjolras nodded. “That lasted longer. All the way up until I was seventeen, I think.”

“You gotta show me some moves sometime,” Éponine told him. She was already making mental notes to take him to a couple of ballroom dance classes once this holiday, this blissfully sweet deception, was over. She had always liked the idea of engaging in a sexy tango with a sexy someone.

Enjolras laughed, leaning in to press his forehead against hers as his large hands cupped her face. “Whatever you want, ’Ponine.”

Éponine smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, and she held her tongue. She couldn’t very well tell him that what she wanted more than anything at that moment was _him_.

* * *

Enjolras tried and utterly failed at stifling a smile as he stood perfectly casually on the ice, gloved hands shoved deep into his coat pockets and eyes trained on Éponine, who was sitting unceremoniously on her ass in the snow and attempting to lace up the figure skates so generously lent to her by Agathe. “Are you doing all right over there?” he called, resisting the urge to smile too obviously at the look of utter concentration on Éponine’s face.

“Almost got it!” Éponine called back through gritted teeth, tightening the laces of her left skate, having done so already with her right. Letting out a sigh of satisfaction once she deemed her skates tight enough, she took her time in getting up, stumbling slightly before she regained her balance. Enjolras waited patiently at the edge of the pond as she very carefully walked over to him, legs adorably wobbling like a baby giraffe’s, and he reached out for her once she was within arm’s reach, warmth spreading through his fingers and subsequently the rest of his body when she grabbed onto his hand.

Fuck damn it. He felt like a clueless little schoolboy hopelessly nursing a first crush.

Giving Éponine his other hand, which she readily took, Enjolras guided her out onto the ice, a smile forming on his lips at her little gasp of surprise at the feeling of the ice beneath her skates. She was unsure, wavering as Enjolras gently guided her further towards the centre of the pond, maintaining an iron grip on his hands and missing the way he swallowed when her grasp tightened.

“You doing okay so far?” Enjolras asked, looking over at her as they gradually came to a stop.

Éponine pressed her lips together and nodded. “Don’t let go,” she demanded.

Enjolras chuckled. “I won’t for now, but I’ll have to eventually if you want to learn.”

Éponine scrunched up her face, squeezing her eyes shut and pouting. “Ugh, okay, _fine_.”

They skated like that for a while, tentative, a little unsteady, Éponine clinging to Enjolras for dear life, before they stopped abruptly near the middle of the pond, Enjolras turning to face Éponine. “I’m going to let go of you now,” he told her. “I’ll teach you how to practise falling.”

Éponine made a face. “Practising falling on your ass is a thing?”

“In skating, yes, it is,” Enjolras confirmed, laughing and shaking his head at the dubious look on her face. “And when done properly, you’re not going to fall on your ass, I promise.”

Arms outstretched to keep herself balanced, Éponine stood there frozen on the ice, too terrified to make a single move as Enjolras demonstrated for her, leaning forward slightly and bending his legs into a dip position before he let himself fall. Éponine made to move towards him and let out a squeak of alarm when she began to slide across the ice, desperately wishing she could grab onto something as Enjolras showed her how to get back up again. “Now you try,” he told her brightly.

Éponine gave him a wary look before doing as he had done, leaning forward and bending her legs, squeezing her eyes shut as she let herself fall onto the ice. Letting herself breathe, she opened her eyes, rather gracelessly getting to her feet, which took her a good five minutes to do so. The smile that lit up Enjolras’ face when she did was worth it, oh, it was so fucking worth it.

He effortlessly glided over to her, taking her hand in his own without a moment’s hesitation and not quite noticing how she tensed up for a millisecond before regaining composure. His smile grew ever wider when her eyes found his.

“Here’s how you stop.” He demonstrated, pushing his feet apart and having his toes point inward until they came to a stop on the ice. Éponine, feeling brave for once, let go of his hand to try and do the same, letting out a squeal of delight when she succeeded in doing so. Enjolras laughed, skating towards her to meet her in the middle, and as her eyes gave him a once-over, gazing at how he looked in those jeans, that wine-red woollen coat, a Gryffindor scarf wrapped around his neck, with his golden curls beautifully windswept and cheeks flushed pink from the cold, blue eyes shining, she couldn’t help but think about how he’d never looked better than he did right now.

She reached out to take his hand and they went skating about, Enjolras patient as Éponine took her time in finding her bearings, and at some point after she had finally gotten comfortable with being on the ice, it began to snow again. She laughed as Enjolras went forward and spun about on the ice, just to see the look on her face when he did so, performing a twizzle across the ice for her eyes only.

“You must’ve been good,” Éponine murmured as Enjolras went back over to her. “At ice dance, I mean.”

Enjolras shrugged, noncommittal. “I was all right.”

Éponine shoved him, grinning. “Stop minimising your achievements. I can tell you were great.”

She laughed at the way a fierce blush rose to his cheeks at her words, reaching up to ruffle his golden curls and leave them even messier than they had already been. “You’re cute when you blush,” she murmured, mostly to herself. She remained oblivious to the way his blue eyes lit up at the offhand compliment.

Enjolras swallowed, holding out his hand for her to take. “Shall we, Mademoiselle?” he asked earnestly, a smile playing at his lips.

Éponine giggled. It was moments like these when she could let herself forget that they were just two friends chilling together, nothing other than that.

Enjolras gazed thoughtfully at her as she laughed, dimples carved deep into her cheeks and a rosy blush settling against her olive skin, warm brown eyes sparkling with mirth and making Enjolras’ heart swell. Wrapped up in her new blue parka with the fur-lined hood, a Gryffindor scarf that matched Enjolras’ own, and black skinny jeans, her brown newsboy cap perched atop her head, sprinkled in snowflakes, she looked stunning. Not that she didn’t always do.

At last, Éponine nodded with a bright-eyed smile on her face, making a big show out of curtseying as best as she could with the skates she had on before taking Enjolras’ hand and giving it a playful squeeze, making his breath catch in his throat.

Jesus Christ, he was reading into every tiny gesture far too much. It was just friendly on her part. It wasn’t like she had ever made any indication of returning his feelings, anyway.

He looked back to her and she grinned, brown eyes finding blue. “After you, Monsieur.”


End file.
